


Promptober: Autumn Anamnesis

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Episode Prompto, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Other, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 29,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12266328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: A collection of sweet short stories exploring different scenarios and relationships with Prompto as the focus.





	1. Camera

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first story prompt collection! I'm completing these daily (I hope) for Miluette's [Promptober](https://miluette.tumblr.com/post/165908366640/hello-friends-i-made-a-prompto-promptober) prompt list. One short story a day about Prompto for the duration of the month of October. Tags will be added with each chapter, and the rating (might) change down the line, depending on where Promptober takes my inspiration. :)

_ Click, click, click. _

Memory, memory, memory.

Every photo he took was precious. Every photo had a story to tell. Even the ones that were off-centre, blurry, or captured an awkward expression on one of his companion’s faces. Noctis’ bulging cheek as he caught him mid-chew during a pitstop at The Crow’s Nest. Gladio’s squinting eyes, flared nostrils and open mouth as he was caught mid-sneeze, his allergies kicking up while setting up camp. Ignis’ literal lens flare as the flash of the camera made his glasses shine like a beacon in the corner of what was supposed to be a dramatic, mid-battle shot.

Every photo was a memory frozen in time. Even the most unflattering.

_ Especially _ the most unflattering.

Prompto and Noctis sat together on the hotel bed at the end of the day, looking through the photos Prompto had taken earlier, as they always did. A documentation of their journey. A tradition of sorts, now. 

“Ha!” Noctis laughed, snatching the camera away before Prompto had a chance to delete the current photo. “Sorry man, but that one’s staying.”

“Aww, c’mon, seriously?!” Prompto groaned, slumping back against the wall. “There’s absolutely no redeeming qualities about that one. If you ask me, it’s scrap-worthy. I mean, just look at it! I look like a ghoul or something.”

“Sorry. This one’s just.. Too good. It’s not scrap-worthy. It’s a keeper. I think it’s even, dare I say it… frame-worthy.” Noct grinned. “Lock screen-worthy, even.”

On the camera screen was a failed Prompto selfie. Lighting? Awful. Pose? Awkward. Framing? Terrible. Expression? What even was going  _ on _ with his  _ face?! _

“Uhhh, dude, no?” Prompto scrunched up his nose, reaching for the camera, but Noct leaned to the other side and kept it out of his grasp. “Come on! That one’s not even funny, it’s just  _ bad. _ If you want a funny pic, I can take one, no problem. But that one can go straight to the trash heap.” 

“Hey. If you can keep all those terrible photos you take of me  _ all the time _ , then it’s only fair. If you ask me, it’s a masterpiece. One for the books. You’re gonna make me a scrapbook out of all these later, aren’t you?” Still grinning.

This was… the most Prompto had seen Noctis smile in days.

Prompto sighed in defeat. “Okay, okay. It stays.” He smiled faintly, despite his words. “You win. Happy now?”

“Yep. Just peachy.” Noctis leaned back against the pillows before he handed the camera back to Prompto, a pleased smirk of accomplishment on his face. 

Failed selfie or not...it made Noctis laugh.

A memory was a memory. And a smile... was precious. So what was one bad photo?


	2. Kid

Prompto sat on the couch, watching as Talcott lined up his collection of Cactuar figurines along the coffee table in front of them. He’d listened to the boy babble on for awhile, explaining that he was missing a few of the colour variants and how much he wished he could see a Cactuar for  _ real _ , in real life. 

“Cactuars are cool and all, but I don’t think you’d ever wanna meet one,” Prompto said with a laugh, “I know, I know. But lemme tell ya, turns out a thousand needles in your face doesn’t feel very good at all. And definitely not in your  _ butt. _ ”

Talcott laughed. “Your butt?!” 

“I.. kinda know from experience. Oh hey! You know what’s even cooler than a Cactuar? A Gigantuar!” Prompto proclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. 

“A Gigantuar? What’s that?” Talcott replied curiously, scooting over on the couch so he could sit closer to Prompto. His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked up at Prompto, hanging onto the blond’s every word like he was the coolest guy on the planet. And to Talcott, he was.

“Oh man. No way. You’ve never heard of a Gigantuar?  _ Really _ ?” Prompto gasped, “They’re only, like,  _ twenty _ times cooler than a Cactuar! And as luck would have it, I managed to capture a really cool shot of one! Here, lemme show you.”  Prompto picked up his camera, sifting through the photos as he tried to find the set he’d taken the other day during their last beast hunt.

“Wow!” Talcott exclaimed. “It’s huge!” 

The photo showcased Prompto, looking pretty darn cool as he fired one of his guns over his shoulder, the Gigantuar a few feet behind him in the background. Little did Talcott know that a few seconds after this shot, though, Prompto fell square on his ass. Talcott… didn’t need to know.

“You wanna know just how big it was? Well…”  Prompto glanced around, then reached for one of the Cactuar figurines. “Pretend this figurine is me, and I’m the Gigantuar.”  He pretended to crush the figurine between two of his fingers, making it ‘dance’ back and forth in the air.  “Oh noooo! What ever did I do to deserve  _ ten thousand _ needles?! My butt! I’ll never sit again!”

Talcott doubled over, a loud laugh bursting from his chest.

Prompto loved making people laugh. Especially kids.

“Hey, let’s take a selfie! Your Cactuar can be in it, too,” Prompto suggested, handing the figurine over to Talcott. Talcott took it immediately while Prompto moved his arm around Talcott’s shoulders, leaning close for the photo. 

“Ready? Say.. ‘fuzzy pickles’!”

Talcott held the Cactuar figurine between their faces, Prompto making a silly shocked face at the Cactuar while Talcott grinned and started to laugh again.

_ Click _ .

Another memory.

“Hey, can you show me how to take a photo too? Please please please!” Talcott begged.

“You know it! C’mon, let’s see if the others wanna be the subject of your very first photographic masterpiece. You’re gonna be a pro in no time.” Prompto smiled, patting Talcott’s shoulder before he got to his feet, Talcott following after him.

Prompto had always wondered what it would be like to have a kid brother. Right now, it sure felt like Talcott could fill that role.


	3. Guns

Prompto had just finished taking a shower, his first  _ real _ shower in what felt like days. Damn. There really was nothing quite like hot water on aching muscles after… how many daemons had they slayed in the last twenty-four hours?! He’d lost count, and quite frankly, he didn’t really care to find out. What he  _ did _ care about, though, was hopping into a warm, comfortable bed and sleeping for fifty years after this shower. Camping be damned. (Sorry, Gladio.)

After drying himself off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and shuffled over to the mirror, freshening up a little before bed. Teeth brushed. Mouth washed. Hair combed, even if it really didn’t need it. 

And then, there was the flexing.

Sometimes, Prompto got a little too invested with his reflection. It wasn’t exactly an ego thing - far from it, actually - but more like… a confidence thing. He liked to monitor his progress. And he’d made good progress, especially after leaving Insomnia with the others. He was finally starting to get some abs (squint, and they were totally there, okay?), and he was proud of them, even if they were decorated by faint stretch marks along the bottom of his stomach. His chest still needed a bit of work, as he had a little… more there than he cared to have, but it was nothing he couldn’t hide with his clothes.  And his arms? Well…

He flexed his right arm. He turned a little, to get a different angle.

Well. 

It was something, he guessed, but it was still not good enough. To him, anyway. They were starting to gain some definition, but...

It was a little hard not to compare yourself to one Gladiolus Amicitia.

Gladio. He was the exact opposite of Prompto in just about every way. The guy was tall. Ripped. Handsome. Facial hair like  _ whoa _ . And most of all...

Gladio’s arms were like… massive.

Prompto couldn’t help but stare, sometimes.

One of his biceps was practically the size of his  _ head _ .

How was this fair?!

What else wasn’t fair? Having Gladiolus Amicitia as your boyfriend, and having it be painfully obvious just how different your body types were, every single time you so much as stood beside one another.

Opposites attract and all, but seriously?

The following day….

“Sun’s out, guns out,” Gladio rumbled, grinning over his shoulder at Prompto. The man stood outside on the hotel balcony, flexing his arm, wearing his tanktop which was certainly appropriate for the sunny weather outside.

“Ha ha, hilarious,” Prompto retorted. He peeked his head out from inside the room. “You done showing off yet?”

“What, you jealous? C’mon, Prom. I thought we were over this.” Gladio stepped over to him. “You’ve got nothin’ to be jealous about.”

“Uh, yeah? I kinda do? I mean,  _ look _ at me.”  Prompto sighed. He hadn’t meant to be so down on himself today, but it just  _ happened _ . “I’m getting nowhere.”

“Hey. I think you’re already  _ somewhere _ .”  Gladio slid his arm around Prompto’s waist. “What’s got ya down? And don’t you dare say ‘you’, as in, ‘me’.”

“You.”

“Dammit.” 

“Seriously, though. How many weights do I have to lift to get.. Y’know..  Something?”  Prompto felt a little pathetic, complaining, as he always did. He wanted to stop, but it was too late.

“Prom, I can’t believe you still can’t see it,” Gladio murmured, resting his head against the other’s.

“See what?”  Prompto looked up at him, curious.

“Your guns are incredible.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. C’mon, flex for me.”

Prompto sighed, stepping away from Gladio. He did as he was told, flexing both his arms. He felt silly, especially standing next to the Mayor of Massive Arms-Land. “There. Happy?” he grumbled.

Gladio slid his hands along Prompto’s arms. Then, delicately, he leaned close and kissed each one, along the toned muscles that seemed to be invisible to Prompto’s eyes.

Prompto turned red.

“Dunno. They look pretty ‘something’, to me,” Gladio said softly. “And if you don’t believe me… listen. Do you think just  _ anyone _ can wield a Bioblaster the way you do in battle?”

“....no,” Prompto replied meekly.

“Didn’t think so. That thing’s massive. Could even give  _ me _ a run for my money. So come on, Prom. Stop comparing yourself to me and learn to love yourself. You’re perfect, just the way you are.” Gladio smiled at him. He caressed the blond’s face, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

With Gladio at his side,  Prompto was sure that soon, and maybe even sooner than he thought, he’d be able to love himself.


	4. Chocobo

The day Prompto first stepped foot on the Wiz Chocobo Post was the greatest day of his life.

He didn’t even care about the smell (Ignis complained about it nonstop, but really, who cares?!); all he cared about was the fact that there were real live chocobos here. And he could ogle them as much as he wanted. Ride them, even. It truly was a dream come true. He was overjoyed. Tempted to do a little happy dance, cartwheels, the whole works but he restrained himself for the sake of his dignity, as well as his friends’ embarrassment. They’d stayed there on the ranch for a little while, helping out Wiz with errands and beast hunts and the like. It was like a mini vacation. Prompto took full advantage of this, filling up his camera’s memory card with pretty much nothing but photos of chocobos. Oh, and of himself. With chocobos.

One chocobo in particular caught his eye; a raggedy looking thing, feathers a beautiful pumpkin orange. He noticed that none of the people working there paid them a lot of attention. When he asked Wiz about them, he was given a simple, yet effective explanation:

“Oh, you don’t want to pet that one. Name’s Spitfire, and for a reason. She’ll crack your fingers, snap ‘em right in two in the blink of an eye, if you’re not careful. Not kidding. She’s a nasty one.”

“Is… there a reason why?” Prompto asked. He couldn’t help but be curious.

“We found her out in the woods, wanderin’ around with a broken harness still on her. We reckon she might’ve been someone’s precious pet once, but the elements got to her. It’s sad. She’s healthy now, but she won’t groom herself and won’t let anyone get close to her long enough to do it for her, either. Aside from maybe once or twice, no one’s been able to touch her.”

“Oh… That’s really too bad,” Prompto replied. He frowned as he glanced back over at Spitfire, who seemed perfectly content munching on some Gysahl Greens from her trough.

A nasty chocobo.

Was such a thing even possible?

Turns out; yes. Yes it was.

Despite Wiz’s warning, Prompto decided to introduce himself to Spitfire anyway.

“Hey there, girl,” he cooed. “Lookit you. You’re so pretty! Didja know that?”  He was grinning from ear to ear, and as much as he wanted to go right up to her pen and touch her, he remembered: fingers. Snap ‘em in two. Right. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m not even gonna touch ya. I just maybe.. Wanna take your picture. Is that okay?”

Spitfire looked at him like he was nuts.

He was, a little, but that was beside the point.

Prompto slowly lifted his camera, and before he could even place his finger on the shutter button, Spitfire took one look at the offending object and squawked a loud “Wark!”, flapping her wings in a panic.

“Whoooooa, whoa there, girl, it’s okay! It’s just my camera, it’s not scary, I promise---” Prompto tried to explain, but unfortunately, Spitfire didn’t speak human.

He put his camera away and immediately, she seemed to calm down.

Huh. So Spitfire hated people, and cameras, too.

_ We’ll see about that. _

For the duration of his stay at the Wiz Chocobo Post, Prompto made a point to visit Spitfire whenever he could. He didn’t bring out the camera, just in case it caused another strong reaction, and so far, things seemed to be going… decently. He couldn’t get very close to her, but he was able to place some Gysahl Greens into her trough, as if he were making a peace offering. He just hung out with her, talked to her in a calm, soothing tone of voice, told her she was pretty… hoping that somehow, he’d be able to make some sort of breakthrough with her.

Even just one photo of her would be great.

Then, on the evening before his party was set to leave, a miracle happened.

Prompto just finished saying his goodbyes to Spitfire and turned around, intending to head over to the motel, when he felt something nudge his back. 

Confused, he thought maybe someone was trying to get his attention - and it was true - but as it turns out, that some _ one _ turned out to be some _ bird _ . To his shock and amazement, Spitfire regarded him with a different stance than normal. She looked less tense, her feathers unruffled. Her head was tilted to the side, watching Prompto with a curious gaze.

Prompto stared right back at her.

“Hey… Spitfire. Was that you?” he asked, almost suspiciously.

“Wark,” was the reply.

“You.. don’t want me to leave, do you?”

“Kweh,” came the next response.

Prompto smiled. “Aw. Hey, it’s okay. This isn’t goodbye for real. It’s only, like, a temporary goodbye. No way in heck am I never gonna visit the Wiz Chocobo Post again.”

“Wark!” she said again. She took a step closer to the side of the pen, leaning her neck over the wooden fence wall.

Prompto stared.

Cautiously, he raised his hand.  _ Well, fingers, it was nice knowing you _ , he thought to himself.  _ Rest in pieces. Two, to be precise. Or would that be five? _

Spitfire lowered her head, her body language telling Prompto what he definitely knew for certain: she wanted to be groomed.

Prompto nearly died, right then. From happiness. For the time being, his fingers lived to wiggle another day.

Chocobo feathers were so soft.

“Hey… selfie before I go?” he asked, smiling as he gently rubbed Spitfire’s cheek.

“Kweh,” was the reply.

“Sweet. Thanks, girl. I’m gonna miss ya. Be good, okay?”


	5. Secret

One day, Prompto woke up to the smell of something irresistibly delicious.

“Mornin’, Iggy,” Prompto yawned as he shuffled out of the tent. Clad in his usual chocobo-patterned pajamas, he was no longer embarrassed to wear them around Ignis. After all, after that one time when he’d discovered that the man harbored a pair of Moogle undies, he felt he’d been one-upped. “Smells good out here.”

“Good morning, Prompto,”  Ignis replied, a warm smile in his direction. “Breakfast’s almost ready.”

“Sweet.”

“Care to take a guess at the secret ingredient?”

And that was the beginning of the little game Prompto liked to call, well, Secret Ingredient. Daily, Ignis would cook something incredible, as he always did, but now it was always accompanied by a, “Fancy another go at guessing the secret ingredient?”

“Paprika?”  Prompto offered.

“Incorrect.”

“....sage?”

“I’m afraid not.”

At first, he downright sucked at it. He wasn’t exactly knowledgeable in the culinary arts, let alone all the different spices and ingredients Ignis used in his recipes every single day. So, one evening, while Ignis was cooking dinner, he asked if he could be shown ‘the works’. Was it cheating? Sort of. Well, no, not when he had no idea what the heck the Herbes de Provence blend was to begin with.

Turns out Herbes de Provence tasted pretty darn good on Cockatrice meat.

A few nights later, Ignis presented him with yet another one of his challenges.

“Well, Prompto?” the spectacled man said, smirking as Prompto gave him a knowing look. He didn’t even have to say The Thing; Prompto knew what was coming.

Prompto grinned as he made his way over to Ignis’ cooking table. “Mr. Scientia, prepare to be defeated.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?”  Ignis crossed his arms, a look of amusement still present on his face.

Prompto decided to make it flashy. Hands on his hips, he sashayed over and snatched a fork off the table, giving it a twirl and pretending he totally didn’t almost just drop it in the process. Then, spearing a chunk of meat off the served plate, he popped it into his mouth and chewed.

Ignis watched the spectacle, intrigued, as if he were being treated to a comedic theatre performance with his meal.

Prompto’s nose crinkled.

“Well?”  Ignis urged. “Come, now. I’m eager to hear all about the details of my demise.”

Prompto chewed, again. His eyebrows furrowed. Then, he swallowed. It took him a moment before he could make his deduction.

“Uh… wait.” He paused.  “Wait. I think I got it. ...Ginger?”  Prompto guessed at last.

Ignis’ eyebrows rose.

Prompto stared at him, practically vibrating from the suspense.

“And here I thought I would stump you with that one for sure,” Ignis said at last.

Prompto’s face lit up. He grinned wide, doing a couple celebratory fist pumps in the air, “Yesssssss!” and accidentally tossing the fork in the process. “Oops.”

Ignis chuckled, a wonderful sound, airy and light that made Prompto’s heart ache. “Well done, Prompto. I believe no humble defeat is complete without a compelling reward for the victor, correct?”

“Oh yeah?” Prompto stepped closer to the table again, placing his hand on the edge as he leaned closer to the taller man. “And what kinda reward are we talkin’, here? A voucher for a lifetime supply of food from The Crow’s Nest?”

“Oh, something far better than  _ that _ ,” Ignis replied.

As Ignis smiled, and Prompto felt the man’s velvety lips brush against his own, he couldn’t help but think that Ignis tasted kinda like Herbes de Provence. Wait, was that in tonight’s marinade, too? 

After that night, Prompto looked forward to playing Secret Ingredient far more than he ever did going to The Crow’s Nest.


	6. Food

Friday nights were date nights. Ignis had deemed them so.

One Friday evening during a stay at Lestallum, Ignis suggested that he and Prompto go down to the outdoor food vendors to find a bite to eat. Prompto sat across from Ignis, happily munching away at his food and stealing the occasional glance at the handsome man sitting across from him at the small table. It was hard to avert his eyes for very long, really. Ignis somehow managed to look gorgeous all the time, even when he was stuffing his face with food. It was one of the few times when the man’s perfect facade would falter from time to time,  like that time he’d accidentally dropped a piece of food onto his shirt, or when he’d taken a sip of water and a little bit dribbled down his chin and caused him to sputter in embarrassment.

Tonight, he’d certainly done a number of blobby proportions.

Prompto glanced up from his burger to steal an adoring gaze at Ignis, gearing himself up for one heck of a fond smile to follow, but instead there was an unplanned look of surprise. Ignis, currently indulging in a semi-healthy sandwich to make up for his side of fries, had apparently forgotten just how messy it all could be. On the corner of his chin was a large smear of what Prompto could only assume was ketchup. Below, three red blobs decorated his white dress shirt’s collar, so neatly perpendicular that it was like he’d done it on purpose, like some kind of fast food work of art. All the while, Ignis was blissfully unaware of his mess, reaching for a napkin which he used to clean his fingers instead of what  _ actually _ required maintenance.

“Is there something wrong, Prompto?” Ignis asked, unable to help but notice he had an audience. 

“Er, uh,” Prompto began. Now with Ignis’ eyes on him, somehow it made the whole ketchup event in front of him all the more amusing. He snickered as he tried his best to suppress laughter, but his attempt at a neutral expression bloomed into a crooked smile instead.  “You got a little, uh...” He gestured to his own chin, then tapped his chest, hoping Ignis clued in.

Ignis blinked a few times. Oblivious. As always. He glanced down at his shirt, then raised a curious hand to his chin, his finger smearing the remaining ketchup that resided there. 

“Ah,” he said simply. “Thank you, Prompto.”

Prompto continued staring at him, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to keep the laughter at bay. For some reason, Ketchup Ignis struck him as really, really funny right now and oh, Gods, he was gonna die.

Normally, Ignis would just correct the momentary blunder and carry on as if nothing had happened, but tonight, something was different. He watched Prompto, finding his poor attempt at silencing himself to be both endearing and amusing in itself.

“Prompto,” Ignis said casually, “I don’t mean to alarm you, but it appears you have a little….” Instead of gesturing to himself as Prompto had done, Ignis reached across the table, dotting his ketchup-soiled finger to the tip of Prompto’s nose.

Prompto dropped what was left of his burger.

Oh. 

What was this?

Ignis wanted to play dirty, huh?

_ Well. _

Prompto grinned. 

“Oh, yeah? Thanks for letting me know! Really nice of you, y’know?” he said in his best cheerful voice.  “Oh, by the way. You missed a spot. Looks like you got a little, uh, whoops.”  Prompto plucked the half-eaten pickle sticking out from his burger and reached across the table, placing it onto one of the blobs of ketchup on Ignis’ shirt collar.

The pickle stayed. Was ketchup adhesive?

Ignis smirked.

“Why, thank you, Prompto. I likely never would have noticed otherwise,” Ignis remarked coolly. He then regarded Prompto with a look of fake shock. “Goodness, Prompto. Have you no table manners? I’m afraid you have a little….”  He lifted the top slice of bread off of his sandwich, his fingers delicately sliding the wilty piece of mayonnaise-covered lettuce from its condiment bedspread. His eyes darted from Prompto to the table, deciding what his next move should be. 

“Huh? Where, Ignis? I dunno what you’re talking about,” Prompto goaded, egging him on as he raised his hands and looked around, pretending to look for whatever it was Ignis was talking about.

_ Time for the, as they say, big guns _ , Ignis decided.

Ignis briefly stood, taking a step closer to Prompto before he dropped the saggy lettuce leaf onto Prompto’s lap, discarding it like a food wrapper into a rubbish bin.

“My apologies, I should have been more specific,” Ignis replied lightly. “Do you see, now?”

Prompto couldn’t believe that just happened.

Was… Ignis  _ okay? _

The look on the spectacled man’s face told him all he needed to know. Ignis was still smirking. That could only mean one thing: Ignis was out for blood. Tomato blood.

“Damn. I had no idea. Whew! Thanks, Iggy. You’re the best. Man, that was an embarrassment waiting to happen, huh?” Prompto replied cheerily as he watched Ignis sit back down in his seat.  “Ohhhh, dude. You’re never gonna believe this, but you’ve  _ still _ got a little…” Prompto picked up a ketchup-soiled fry off of his plate. He already knew where this one was going. Oh, yes. This dirty, soggy fry was on a  _ mission _ .

Ignis watched as Prompto stood up, reached over, and deposited that fry into the opening of his shirt, like an envelope in a mail slot.

By the end of their dinner date, there was no food to be found on their plates. It was around the time when the last fry was down Ignis’ shirt that the pair were asked to leave due to ‘comic mischief’.

Prompto had never heard Ignis laugh that much in his life.


	7. Kingsglaive

That night, Prompto donned his Kingsglaive uniform in front of Noctis for the first time.

Prompto slinked out of the bathroom, the soles of his slightly-heeled boots clunking against the hardwood floor with each nervous step. He’d worn this uniform a couple times before now, but only briefly, just to make sure it fit him right. And every time, he’d stared at himself in the mirror, feeling more and more awkward until he couldn’t fight the urge to strip himself free of it faster than it took to put it on any longer.

Right now, he felt similar. Probably because Noctis was sitting right there in front of him on the edge of the bed, staring, and he hadn’t yet said a word. Compared to how Noctis looked in his ‘Kingly Raiment’, he looked like he was on his way to a costume party or something.

“Looks bad, right?”  Prompto mumbled. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I know. It looks weird on me. Can’t quite pull off the whole trenchcoat look. Never could.”

Noctis rubbed at his bearded chin, studying him. “Actually… you know… it suits you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Prompto crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow.

“Actually, I’m not.”

“You so are.”

“If anyone looks weird in uniform, it’s me. I mean, come on. Check it out.” Noctis lifted his arms as he looked down at himself. His outfit was in need of a good ironing already, but somehow he still managed to make it look fit for a king. A king could wear creased and wrinkly clothes if he wanted to, dangit.

“Yeah, but you’ve got a cape. That automatically makes you, like, ten times cooler by default. No one messes with a dude in a cape.”

Noctis laughed at that. His awkward, soft laugh. Still the same, even after ten years. Prompto never forgot it. It still made his heart flutter and a smile grow on his face.

“All right. I’ll give you that. But you’ve got the boots.” Noctis gestured to Prompto’s feet lazily.

“Eh? What about the boots?”

“They, uh. They look… good.”

Prompto lifted one foot, studying the footwear curiously. “Really?”

“Totally. They make your legs look twice as long. If I’m being completely honest… they’re pretty hot.”

Prompto paused. “Are you coming onto me, Your Majesty?”

“Maybe.”

“Dude. You never told me you had a thing for boots.”

“I don’t.”

“Then…”

“It’s not really the boots. It’s more like… I… have a thing for you?” Noctis rubbed at his chin again, a new habit that Prompto quickly interpreted as a shy fidget.

“Huh. Still? Even after ten years? I sure lucked out, didn’t I?” Prompto smiled crookedly as he made his way over to the bed.

“Especially after ten years.” Noct smiled his own crooked smile. Prompto was still beautiful to him. Ten years of darkness, ten years of uncertainty and ten years worth of tired bags under his eyes, but Prompto was still Prompto.

Prompto gave him a kiss that was ten years in the making.


	8. Machines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, we interrupt your daily fluff to bring you an angsty intermission.

“They’re just machines.”

That’s what the others always said.

Just machines. Machines in a human-like form that moved unnaturally. Machines that sparked, stuttered and even exploded when they took damage. Machines that turned into a heap of scrap metal and disappeared into thin air if their masks shattered to dust.

Just machines that uttered a horrible, ghastly wail when the light literally left their eyes. Machines that uttered an inhuman, yet somehow eerily human screech when they collapsed to the ground and never moved again.

Those screams haunted Prompto’s slumber for weeks after their first encounter with the magitek infantry. He couldn’t tell anyone the reason why he looked so tired, why he could hardly even lift his feet off the ground, why he seemed to put off going to bed every night. Why he couldn’t keep his eyes closed for very long, scared that if he did, all he’d see behind his eyelids were the piercing, glowing stares of all of the machines he’d destroyed.

When he suddenly woke in the dead of night, sitting upright with his heart racing and his breath coming in shallow, quick gasps, he had to keep reminding himself: they were machines. Just machines.

But if they were just machines, then why couldn’t he stop thinking about them?

Why did he feel strangely drawn to them?

Why did he feel his heart ache, feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end every time he heard their agonizing howls echo in the back of his mind?

They were just machines. Machines, manufactured to be disposable soldiers. Nothing but empty, soulless armor.

Empty, soulless armor that screamed when they ‘died’.

Prompto stared at his wrist more now than he ever did in his entire life.


	9. Bashful

Prompto was prone to blushing. And the worst part was, he had no hope of ever hiding it when it happened; his complexion gave him away immediately. The second he felt even just a little bit shy, just a little bit bashful, it was like a light switch: flick, and bam, there was the pink. His face lit up like a firework, the red blooming across his cheeks like dye in water. His freckles, darkening until they were practically glowing bright like stars peeking through a red-washed sunset sky.

Gladiolus liked to take advantage of that.

A nod of approval when Prompto walked by him.

Blush.

A grin when Prompto did his morning stretches.

Blush.

A whistle when Prompto stepped out of the bathroom, his hair damp and his towel around his shoulders.

Blush.

Sometimes Prompto didn’t even have to  _ do _ anything; he could just be sitting on one of the chairs by the campfire at the end of the day, cellphone in hand and suddenly there’d be a “Damn. Lookin’ good, Prom.” He’d groan, hiding his face in his hands, and he’d know the heat on his cheeks wasn’t just from the fire in front of him.

Even after being with Gladiolus for a year, now, he still felt bashful every single time the other complimented him. Even after all the kisses and touches and tender moments they’d shared together, it was like he was a permanent shade of pink whenever he was around him.

“Gods, you’re stunning.” 

Prompto’s blush spread from his face down to his bare shoulders as he stared up at the other, his heart hammering away in his chest.

“You just never stop with the compliments, huh?” Prompto murmured. He tried to cover his face with his hands again, but Gladio’s own stopped him short before he could, twining their fingers together.

“I never wanna stop seein’ red,” Gladio replied, chuckling as he sealed it with a kiss.

Gladiolus loved him.


	10. Friends

All Prompto had ever wanted his whole life was to have friends.

To feel wanted, to feel  _ needed _ , to just… have someone he could spend time with. Even if it was something simple like sitting around in the same room together while everyone does their own thing, or to just have someone to go with to the grocery store. Just...  _ company _ , as a whole. Loneliness was a theme in his childhood and for as long as he could remember, it left him longing for more. He  _ knew _ there had to be more. He  _ knew  _ there had to be a way to fix it. It seemed so  _ simple _ , and yet when it came to talking to people, he just… couldn’t do it. What was it that he was missing?

Turns out, what he’d been missing was courage. Confidence. Someone to encourage him.  It all started with a chance encounter with a small dog, and then a letter. Lady Lunafreya gave him the gift of courage; the courage to become Noctis’ friend. To take a chance. Then, suddenly, it was like all the pieces were starting to fall into place at last; he began to find the missing pieces of the puzzle that was his life. One of those pieces... was Noctis.

Being Noctis’ friend was incredible; better than he ever could have imagined. And through Noctis, he met many new people, including Noctis’ entourage. He didn’t get to see them very often, but his first impression was that they just didn’t seem... approachable. It was like there were worlds between them, several sheets of glass, and Prompto had no idea how to break through. He had no idea how to talk to them, so he just… didn’t.

Then, when they all left Insomnia together, it was like everything changed in the blink of an eye. He had comrades. Companions. It was like... he now had three friends instead of one. One friend he already knew quite well, but the other two were still a work in progress. But as the days they spent together turned into weeks, he quickly came to learn the meaning of “don’t judge a book by its cover”.

Ignis, the man who generally gave off a “Don’t talk to me, I’m always working” vibe turned out to be one of the nicest, if not the funniest, people he’d ever met. All it took was the courage to ask him what he was cooking one night, and before he knew it, they were having a “pun-off” while he taste-tested the incredible dinner they were going to have that night before everyone else.

Gladiolus, the man who generally gave off an “I’m massive and could squash you like a bug, don’t annoy me” vibe turned out to be one of the goofiest and kindhearted people he’d ever met. All it took was the courage to make a lighthearted joke while they were making camp one night, and before he knew it, they were wrestling in the tent, with Gladio at Prompto’s mercy.

On the days where his worries and fears caught up with him and he felt like a burden to everyone, like a tag along, they were quickly extinguished when Ignis would notice him standing off to the side and invite him over to join them. When the conversation turned to three participants instead of four, Gladio would chime in something and a “Right, Prompto?” to include him, shifting the subject to something Prompto could join in on, too. And with Noctis, it went without saying. If there was anyone who made Prompto feel needed, wanted, it was him, and all it would take was a simple smile in his direction.

Prompto thanked the Six every day for finally sending the last three missing pieces of his life’s puzzle to him at last.


	11. With Noctis

With Noctis, it was unexpected.

“Dude, you are  _ so _ on.”

“Ready to get your ass handed to you on a plate? Cuz that’s totally what’s coming your way.”

“Uh, no? Did you even  _ see _ your score back there? I think that’s proof enough that quiiiite frankly, you suck, and are gonna eat your words. I heard the letters ‘a’ and ‘s’ are particularly tasty.”

Noctis and Prompto rushed down the street together from the arcade, laughing and shoving each other the whole way, stumbling over their own feet and nearly losing their balance with each shove. School that day had been mind numbingly boring, dragging on for what felt like an eternity, so what better way to unwind than to spend a few hours at the arcade afterward? 

Unfortunately, what was supposed to be some relax and chill time turned into yet another competitive event between the two, and before they knew it they were trying to beat each other’s high scores. Prompto, as usual, ended up victorious, and Noctis was so sour about it that on the way back to his place, he challenged Prompto to a duel. A duel… using Mario Kart as swords.

“Okay, so,” Prompto began, setting up the game system in Noctis’ room while Noctis watched him with his arms crossed over his chest, “Rules are simple. Grand Prix. CPUs are participating. Everyone’s out for blood. 200cc. Special Cup. Person who ranks first place at the end, obviously, wins.”

“Special Cup…” Noctis repeated, thinking it over.. Then, he groaned, pushing his hair back in exasperation. “That’s the one with Rainbow Road, right?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, come on. 200cc? Rainbow Road? Prompto, that’s--”

“A challenge, if I ever saw one.”  Prompto grinned wide, holding up the controller Noctis always used and wiggling it in the air, beckoning him to take it. “C’moooon. Don’t tell me you’re… admitting defeat already?”

“Hell no,” Noctis grumbled, snatching the controller from Prompto. “Let’s get this over with already.” He crawled onto his bed so he could sit in front of the TV with Prompto beside him, ready to start.

The first match… didn’t exactly go as planned. 

“Argh! I was  _ so close _ !” Prompto yelled as he gestured wildly at the screen. “How the  _ heck _ did Luigi sneak by at the last second?!”

Noctis, who came in third place, had no comment. “Huh,” he said absently. 

“You saw that, right? Luigi totally cheated! Like, that should have been  _ impossible _ !”

“Weird.”

“Okay, okay, now it’s  _ really _ on.”

Next, Noctis won a match, then Prompto, and then Luigi, again. Somewhere along the way, the war between the two of them turned into a war against Luigi. The final course, Rainbow Road, would determine who would be awarded the gold trophy: Noctis, Prompto, or Luigi.

They didn’t care who won that last round, as long as Luigi  _ went down _ .

It was the most stressful match of Rainbow Road that either of them had ever played. Every CPU was after them. Constantly being knocked off the edge of the course. Red shells and blue shells  _ everywhere _ . It was so chaotic that it ended up being Prompto that got knocked to twelfth place, leaving the fate of the Special Cup in Noctis’ hands.

Noctis’ hands gripped the controller so hard his fingers were nearly turning white. Prompto stopped trying, having lagged so far behind all the other players that now he was more focused on Noctis’ side of the screen. Noctis was second place. Luigi was in first. As the two of them raced head to head on the final lap, Prompto scooted closer to Noctis on the bed, staring at the screen with wide eyes as he just... let his own controller fall into his lap. It was intense. Prompto silently prayed that Noctis would get an item to help him out, just, anything at all would help. Anything.  _ Please. _

And then, in the final few moments of the race… Noctis got a mushroom boost item. He used it, right before the finish line, and…

Luigi. Second place.

“Yeah!!!!” Prompto shouted. He cheered, hooted, as Noctis sat there beside him, completely dumbfounded. “You did it, Noct! You beat him! You kicked Luigi’s  _ ass _ !”

Noctis was frozen in disbelief until it all sank in. “Heh… I won,” he said, his usual awkward grin now on his face.

“Hell yeah you did, dude!” Prompto laughed, forcing the controller out of Noctis’ hands as he pulled him into a hug, then sat back a bit as he grinned wide at him. “Man, that was incredible!”

Neither of them were sure who initiated it, but before either of them could realize what happened just then, lips were pressed against lips and hearts stopped in chests before speeding off on a race of their own. Breaths were scarce. Nerves were high. Surprise was definite.

“N-Noct?”  Prompto squeaked, their mouths hovering just mere inches away from one another when it was over.

Noctis had no reply. He was rendered speechless. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears. Instead of speaking, he slowly closed the distance between them once more,  the smile growing on his face at the same time.

Neither of them wanted to admit that it was Luigi who got them together.


	12. With Gladio

With Gladio, it wasn’t like the movies.

When.

When was it going to happen?

Was it... when they were at lunch together? When Gladio looked over at him and smiled a genuine smile, reached across the table and did that whole ‘gently touches your face’ thing?

Nope.

Was it… when they were holding hands, walking down to the park together? When Gladio let go of his hand in favour of sliding his arm around his waist instead, doing that whole ‘“Hey, now we’re all close-like” with a wink’ thing?

Nope.

Surely, there had to be some kind of cue, right? Some sort of mutual understanding. Something that told them both, “Oh, hey, now’s totally a good time to kiss” and then it just… happens. Simple, right? At least, that’s how it was in the movies. But every time there was a ‘movie moment’, nothing happened, and things just continued as normal.

Prompto had no clue what he was doing. And… he didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to do the whole... ‘lean in and the other person doesn’t’ thing. Just the thought alone was enough to make him feel like he was going to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. So, the question was....

How was one supposed to have their first kiss with Gladiolus Amicitia?

Apparently, one didn’t.

At the end of their date, Gladio walked Prompto back to his house. It was casual. Their fingers were twined together. They were laughing. Smiling. Hearts were fluttering. And yet, when it came time to say their goodbyes, that ended up being all it was.

“Well Prom, until next time,” Gladio said, with that same genuine smile on his face from earlier that Prompto loved, and right now, kind of hated, as Gladio then let go of his hand and turned to leave, and---

“Uh, what the hell, Gladio?” Prompto blurted out.. Well, there it was. It was out before he could stop it. Dammit. He had so many regrets. So many. All at once.

Gladio hesitated, then pivoted on his boots as he turned back around. “Huh?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked in question.. “What did I do?”

Prompto paused. “Aren’t you gonna, I dunno.... kiss me goodnight? I mean, that’s what’s supposed to happen right now, right? So what gives? You’re just… you’re just gonna... leave?”

Gladio stared at him. Then, he started to laugh.

Prompto swallowed, feeling his nerves rise as he stared back at Gladio. At first he was annoyed, but now he was confused and kind of wanting to disappear into his house right now. Why the hell did he say that?!

“I could ask you the same thing,” Gladio said at last, grinning as he slid his hand through his hair.

Now, it was Prompto’s turn to go, “Huh?”

“I was waitin’ for you to make the first move,” Gladio explained. He stepped closer to Prompto, who took a step backward, his back hitting the door behind him.

“....what?!”

“I didn’t wanna seem like I was pushing to make things move too fast. I could tell you were nervous the whole time we were out today. Didn’t wanna overstep my boundaries. So, I was waiting to see if you’d ever try and initiate it, or gave me some kind of hint that you wanted to. And you never did.”

Prompto couldn’t believe this. He puffed out his cheeks in a harsh exhale of breath. “Yeah, well… you never did either!” he shot back.

“So, you wanna go ahead and show me where in the dating handbook it says that it’s always up to me? That’s not very fair,” Gladio replied. He was still smiling, despite his words. “It should apply to both parties, don’t you think? Not just one.”

“I….” Prompto began. He sighed. “Okay, you got me there.”

“So… are you gonna kiss me, or what?” Gladio took another step closer.

It took him a minute, but eventually, Prompto did.  He even tried the whole ‘reach behind yourself to fumble with the doorknob until the door opens, then you pull the other person inside the house with you while the kiss keeps going’ thing, but Prompto forgot that he hadn’t unlocked the door yet. So, it was a whole lot of jiggling and ‘oh craps’ before they both laughed and went inside normally. Gladio didn’t mind, though. It was Prompto’s awkwardness that Gladio fell in love with in the first place. Movie cliches be damned.


	13. With Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game spoilers for Chapter 9!

With Ignis, it was bittersweet.

Prompto wasn’t sure when it happened. It was as if he just, woke up one day, and suddenly, there was Ignis.

Ignis Scientia. The man was cool, calm, collected, intelligent. He was everything Prompto aspired to be, really. Prompto had admired him for as long as he could remember. Even back in high school, when Prompto would hang out at Noctis’ apartment, there he was. Stylish, composed, even as he cooked their dinner and lugged the trash bags filled with their mess to the dumpster outside. But he never paid him much mind.

He wished he did.

And later, after spending all that time together thanks to the journey with Noctis and Gladio… he also wished that somehow, he’d had the courage to tell him how he felt about him. He’d had no excuse not to, and yet, he just… couldn’t. So many opportunities where he could have approached Ignis while the man was cooking breakfast or dinner; times when Gladio and Noct went off to do whatever, leaving Ignis just sitting there on one of the camping chairs, as if he were silently coaxing him with a “Come, now. Confess. I dare you.”

Despite all the chances that had been served to him on a silver platter, he’d always found a way to tiptoe around them. He’d freeze up, start babbling about something irrelevant or become downright incomprehensible, finding a way to remove himself from the perfect scenario before it even had a chance to begin. He’d see those emerald eyes regard him with a gentle curiosity, as if peering into his very soul. Prompto would leave quickly before Ignis could coax his heart out on full display, excuse himself the moment he’d start to feel just a little bit vulnerable.

Then, Altissia happened.

Ignis’ eyes were thickly bandaged; healing nicks here and there decorated his beauty-marked visage, dented his once perfect lips. His chest rose and fell with each slow breath he took. He looked… peaceful, and it would have been a calming sight if he hadn’t already been sleeping for days, yet to wake even once.

Prompto sat at his bedside, slumped in the chair that he’d barely left since Ignis was brought in and treated. He was stubborn; he’d barely slept, his fear and worry preventing him from doing so. He just couldn’t bear to leave him. He was terrified that the man would never wake up, or would wake when he wasn’t there. He had no idea if Ignis could hear him, but despite, sometimes he’d talk to him. Nothing of interest, just… something to fill the silence of the room. He just didn’t want Ignis to be lonely.

He just… had to know if Ignis was okay.

Then, finally, the day came when he finally woke up. Prompto couldn’t stop crying. Tears of relief streamed down his face; tears of anguish. Everything he’d had bottled up this whole time spilled over the edge, burst forth from his chest before he could stop himself. He slid his chair closer to the bed, doubling over as he pressed his face against the blankets and his arms in an attempt to silence himself, but it just wouldn’t stop.

“Ignis, I was so scared... I… I thought… I thought I’d lost you, and… I didn’t know what to do,” Prompto started to sob, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as he shook. “I’m... so glad… you’re okay… I just… I… What I’m trying to say is…” He stopped short, feeling his nerves rise even now as another sob escaped him. It wasn't until he felt an uncertain brush of fingers against his hair that he fell silent, the lump in his throat growing as his heart ached in his chest.

“Prompto,” Ignis said. His voice was hoarse, but still held the warm gentleness that it always did. “I… feel very much the same.” 

Prompto peered up at the man over his arms; at the man who would never truly see him again even after the bandages were removed, and wanted to ask him what he meant. Before he could, Ignis continued.

“I always have. In what I believed may have been my final moments, I feared that I… had missed my last chance… to tell you… how I feel… about you.”

Prompto couldn’t see the tears, obscured by bandages, but he could tell from his shaking voice that Ignis was crying, too. How painful it must be, and yet….

When Ignis slid his hand from Prompto’s hair, reaching for him, seeking, Prompto leaned closer and trembled as Ignis delicately touched his cheek, ran his fingers through the tears that flowed freely and wiped them away the best he could.

Their first kiss was supposed to have happened much, much sooner. Long before they’d come to Altissia. But Prompto felt blessed that he had been given this chance, and vowed to live with no regrets from this point forward.


	14. With Luna

With Luna, it was indirect.

Prompto stood at the Vivienne Westwood storefront, awestruck at the display in the window. Now that the crowds had cleared, he was finally able to get a good view of Lady Lunafreya’s wedding dress at last. It was beautiful, definitely fit for royalty, however, he found he couldn’t stop staring at the portrait that hung beside it instead.

Lunafreya was every bit as beautiful as he knew she would be. Her kindness and strength seemed to radiate from the portrait, as if it had been blessed by her very aura itself. Prompto didn’t quite feel worthy enough to stand in front of it; and yet, he was actually far more worthy than the rest of the town’s spectators had been.

He reached into his pocket, slowly recovering the letter Lunafreya had sent to him. Even after all these years, it still smelled faintly of flowers. Whenever Prompto questioned himself, questioned his worthiness of being Noctis’ friend, he’d read this letter over and over again until he felt like he could go on once more.

He couldn’t wait to meet her. He must have practiced how their first official meeting would go a hundred times in his mind at this point. No greeting felt like it would be good enough, and even if it was, heck, with Prompto being Prompto, he was sure that he’d probably stutter and make everything awkward like he always did.

Even so… he still wanted to meet her. He wondered, maybe, if it would be okay if he kissed her hand in a gentlemanly polite gesture? Would Noctis kick his ass afterward? Maybe.

He wondered how Tiny, er, Pryna, was doing.

He smiled as he read the letter again. Tomorrow, he’d find out. Tomorrow, he’d show her that he kept his promise. That he’d remained ever at Noctis’ side, and intended to for the rest of his days.

He tucked the letter back in its envelope, giving it a kiss before he slid it back in his pocket. A kiss, for good luck. For what was to come, for everyone.

He couldn’t wait to thank her at last.


	15. With Gentiana

With Gentiana, it was a matter of life or death.

For as long as Prompto could remember, an ebony-haired beauty had appeared in his photos in some shape or form. Whether tucked behind a tree in the background, disappearing in the dark far off in the distance, or even just straight up being right behind the person he was photographing.

Just who was she? When did it start happening? When he thought as far back as he could, it was one significant event that marked the beginning of it all: when he’d helped Lady Lunafreya’s dog, Pryna (or “Tiny” as he so affectionately dubbed her). After Pryna had left, he’d first noticed the mysterious woman through the window behind one of his progress selfies. He didn’t think anything of it, that is, until it became a common occurrence.

It should have been a tad creepy, but for some reason, her photographic presence became oddly comforting.

Later, thanks to the journey he’d been on with Noct and the others, he’d finally learned her name. Gentiana. She’d appeared before them, and as Ignis had explained, she was a Messenger, a spirit faithful to the Oracle.

It was a cool title and all, but Prompto thought “Master of the Immortal Photobomb” was slightly better.

Soon, her photograph haunting became a game. Just before bed, while he reviewed the photos he’d taken that day, Noctis and whoever else was around to join in did a game of “Spot the Immortal”. Prompto and Noctis often argued whether a small speck in the far corner of the picture was her, and then in some photos taken in towns such as Lestallum, Gladio would swear that anyone who happened to have long black hair in the crowd was her. Prompto knew better, though. In some ways, Prompto felt like he knew her. After all, she’d been a constant in his photos for years, now.

He doubted he would ever have direct contact with her, until one fateful incident led to him donned in winter apparel, wandering the harsh arctic tundras of Nifelheim. 

When he came to at last, he was half-buried in the snow, his memories hazy, eyesight a blur. He barely remembered what had happened. How long had he been sleeping in this unforgiving blizzard? His face was decorated with snow, the intensity of the wind searing the small ice flecks against his skin like miniature daggers. Somehow, he felt it when he shouldn’t have; his face wasn’t numb from the below zero temperatures. Instead, all he felt was warmth. His face, his core… it was as if…

No. No, it wasn’t possible. Was it? 

He’d dreamed of an ebony-haired spirit, embracing him in the snow. He’d dreamed of a mysterious stranger, a calming voice whispering words of encouragement in his ear.

_You mustn’t give up here. This is not the end for you._

He thought he’d imagined the soft press of a kiss to his cheek, melting the ice sealing his lips and eyes shut, thawing his frozen skin.

He understood, now.

She had been watching over him this whole time. 

That day, he’d learned that the Goddess, Shiva, harboured warmth.


	16. With Cor

With Cor, it was a fanboy dream come true.

Prompto thought Cor Leonis was pretty much the coolest person alive.

He’d spent so long trying to word this damn fan letter in a way that didn’t sound weird. Or creepy. But it was hard. He sucked at formal letter writing. Whenever he tried, it started out normal enough, then deteriorated into fanboy drivel.

Like this one.

“One day, if we ever get to meet, could you show me some cool moves? I have no idea how to wield a katana or anything, but the way you swing it around just looks so cool and stuff and ever since I was little I wanted to be just like you and”

Ugh. Erase.

“Mr. Leonis, it would be an honour if you could just, kick my ass, just once”

No way.

“Cor, you’re the hottest man alive”

_Absolutely_ not.

One day, he accidentally left the failed letter in Noctis’ room. He completely forgot about it, didn’t even think twice when his pocket formerly stuffed with paper was now empty.

Years later, Prompto joined the Crownsguard. He finally got to train with the man he admired, Cor Leonis. It was _awesome_. Somehow, he managed not to look like a complete and utter fool around him. Sometimes.

It was a Thursday. The others attending the class had already left, leaving just Prompto and Cor. Prompto was on his way out, when---

“So. The ‘Hottest Man Alive’, am I?” Cor’s deadpan voice rumbled behind him.

Prompto thought he was going to die, right then and there.

“...huh?” he squeaked. If he were in a cartoon, his knees would have made a rattling sound, struggling to hold his weight up, while his ghost exited his body with a goofy “ooooooo” sound and disappeared through the ceiling.

“That’s a title I never thought I’d be given. Flattered.”

_Noctis._ He... gave him the letter. That stupid letter he wrote ages ago. He had to have. What other explanation could there be?! _Noct, I swear to the Six, you’re going to pay for this---_

“Sir, I---”

“You weren’t your best today. Looks like you got your wish. You got your ass kicked.”

Prompto didn’t know if he should laugh or run for the nearest open window. Was he pissed? Obviously, right? But damn, Cor’s tone was so hard to read, and---

“Y-yeah. You got me pretty good today, Marshal,” Prompto somehow replied. “I.. promise I’ll be on my game tomorrow. I swear!” He idly rubbed at his hand, throbbing from an earlier failed attempt at blocking an attack. It would likely sport a large bruise soon.

Cor noticed. “Need me to kiss your boo-boo better, Argentum?” His tone was sarcastic. And lighthearted. Maybe?

Prompto’s heart thudded in his chest. _Whatever, he already read the stupid letter. What else do I have to lose at this point?_

“Actually, sir, yeah, I think that _would_ help.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. _Prompto, what the hell?!_

To his shock and amazement, Cor Leonis actually did it.

And so began what Prompto could only describe as the title to his autobiography, “How I Fell For The Totally Hot Commander and Faked a Ton of Boo-boos”.


	17. With Iris

With Iris, it was gracious.

Prompto spent a lot of time hanging out with Iris while they stayed in Lestallum. He’d always liked the younger Amicitia sibling - she was sweet, kind, and she laughed at all of Prompto’s dumb jokes. But best of all was that she didn’t take any shit. She might be small, but she had bite, and Prompto admired that. 

He also admired how Iris didn’t do much in the way of covering up her crush for Noctis.

That night, when she came back from her tour ‘date’ with Noctis, Prompto was the only one in the hotel room at the time. She burst in, marched over to one of the beds, collapsed on it with a heavy ‘whoomp’ and groaned in agony.

“Prompto, you’ve gotta help me!” her voice wailed against the pillow.

Prompto, busy tinkering with his camera by the window, got up from the chair and went to investigate, seeing his friend’s metaphorical Bat Signal shining in the air.  “What’s up?”

Iris rolled over, staring at Prompto with an almost accusatory glare. “You’re his best friend, right? You’ve gotta know what sort of stuff he likes, right? What can I get him as a gift before you guys have to leave?”

“Uh,” Prompto forced a grin, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “Y’see, I… don’t know?”

Iris made a unimpressed sound and sat up so she could grab Prompto by the shoulders. “Come on! Anything? Is there something he needs? Wants? Some kind of food he’s been craving?”

“Food’s not really a  _ lasting _ gift, though,” Prompto replied, wishing he could be of better help to her. He himself was pretty bad at coming up with gifts to give to people. 

“Then…?” Iris shook his shoulders gently. “Come on, Prompto. Something I can give him that he can take with him and… you know. Maybe help him out along the way? There’s gotta be something.”

“So do you want something sentimental, or something useful? Pick one. Can’t really have both.” 

Iris grumbled. “Both would be so good, though.”

Prompto patted Iris’ shoulder, then politely removed her hands from his own. “Okay, so. Here’s a tip. Dudes love when girls make them stuff. Food is the best default option, of course, but we kinda want something more long term for Noct, right?”

“Right.”

“So, why don’t you make him something more permanent? Like, a pendant, or… oh, oh, bet you didn’t know this, but it turns out Noct’s got a soft spot for cats. I know, right? Totally unexpected. But he’s kinda like a cat in a lot of ways, so maybe it just makes sense? Anyway, I think he’s secretly a fan of cute things, especially animals. So I bet if you bought or made him something cute, he’d go nuts.”

Iris stared at him for a moment, then her soft brown eyes seemed to light up all at once.

“Prompto, you’re a genius!” she exclaimed. Apparently, this suggestion just made  _ sense _ , because she then hugged him around the neck and gave his cheek a quick kiss. 

And that was how Prompto got roped into helping Iris comb the Lestallum market for the supplies she needed for her handmade Moogle plush project. In the end, Iris chickened out in telling Noctis that she had made the plush herself, but Prompto knew the truth, trying not to grin when Noctis showed him the gift later. He  _ knew _ suggesting something cute would be perfect - and it was.

_ Way to go, Iris. _


	18. With Aranea

With Aranea, it was a misunderstanding.

Aranea Highwind. What could Prompto say about Aranea Highwind? She was just… a badass. She was strong, brave, and Prompto really liked her no-nonsense attitude. She kind of scared him a little, but he thought that maybe that kinda added to her appeal. There was something about a woman that could kick his ass that intrigued him, but he wasn’t about to get on her bad side to get firsthand experience. (He didn’t want to die.)

She didn’t pay him much mind while she had temporarily joined their party - he just kinda admired her from afar, wishing he could be as precise and hard-hitting as her during battle. Then, during a beast hunt, he heard her address him directly for the first time.

“Nice shot, Shortcake,” she said as she stepped past him, continuing on without so much as a glance in his direction.

‘Shortcake’?

Well, it wasn’t exactly his name, but she still acknowledged him nonetheless. Prompto hated that he blushed at the odd choice of nickname. Thank the Six that she was already several feet away, her back turned so she couldn’t see the effect her simple words had on him.

To his surprise and confusion, the compliments became more frequent after that. The nickname usage was constant. He wondered if it was because she had a spotty memory, or if she just couldn’t be bothered to remember his actual name. Prompto didn’t mind, though. He... kind of liked being called Shortcake. But only if it was by her.

Soon, it wasn’t long before he swore she kept looking at him. Smiling at him, then quickly glancing away whenever Prompto dared to look back at her. 

Was… Aranea interested in him? Was she… flirting with him, in her own little way?

Oh. Ohhh no. Prompto… had no idea how to handle this. Aranea Highwind… was interested in  _ him _ ?! Just the very thought was completely ridiculous. And yet…

_ Shortcake _ .

Prompto hated that his heart had started to flutter when he heard that nickname now.

“Hey, Shortcake, got a minute?” Aranea said, gesturing behind herself.

They’d just finished eating dinner by the fire, and the others were all busy with one thing or another. Prompto was just messing around on his phone, wasting time until he decided that he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and shuffle off to bed. “Huh?” He perked up when he heard Aranea’s voice. He wasn’t expecting her to talk to him at all, let alone hear her invite him off somewhere. 

“Oh, uh… sure?” Prompto cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn’t sound as cracky as it no doubt was. He scrambled to tuck his phone back into his pocket and got to his feet, not wanting to dawdle when he knew Aranea didn’t have a whole lot of patience. When she saw that he was up, Aranea started to head for the trees, disappearing through the small path they’d cleared earlier.

Prompto sure hoped his hair was on point and that he didn’t look like a  _ complete _ mess. Aranea. Invited him. Into the… woods? Oh.  _ Oh.  _ What reason would a girl have to invite a guy out to the woods with her, alone? Prompto’s mind began creating all kinds of scenarios, and none of them ended with him being totally calm and totally suave.  _ Stay cool, Prompto. It’s all good. _

Or so he thought.

“Listen. I’m gonna be heading off tomorrow, parting ways from you lot. Probably be gone before you guys even get up. Not sure when or if we’ll see each other again,” Aranea began, leaning back against one of the nearby trees. “Before I leave, I just wanted to let you know that you’ve improved these last few days in battle. If you focused just a bit more, you’d be golden. Looks like you’re not as bad as I thought, kid.”

Prompto felt his cheeks warm as he smiled faintly. A compliment… right? Wow, he had no idea what to say. “Heh…you really think so? Thanks,” he said, his nerves rising to the max as they struggled to take over completely, maybe make him trip over nothing and fall ass-up in a bush nearby, yeah, that works.

“Anyway,” she continued as she took a few steps toward him. “Thought I’d give you a little something. For good luck. Might help you out, until we cross paths again. If we even do, that is. A little something to remember me by.”

Prompto swallowed, his eyes widening.

“Hurry up and close your eyes, would you?” she muttered, taking another step closer.

Prompto felt his heart pulse, threatening to explode like a balloon filled with too much helium. This was it. This  _ was it _ . Right? Holy shit. Prompto had never really thought about what his first kiss was going to be like, or when, or how, but he never in a million years thought it would be with a beautiful, incredible woman like Aranea Highwind, alone in the woods, and..  _ Oh Gods. _

Prompto did what he was told, closing his eyes. All the while, he screamed internally and told himself over and over,  _ Okay, stay cool, stay cool, dude, you got this, just… pucker up and it’ll be no sweat. Right? Right. You can do this. _

And so he did.

And he waited.

And waited.

Prompto felt nothing but the cold night air against his lips, which were starting to feel a little tense from holding his pre-kiss pose for so long.

Aranea began to laugh.

“Shortcake, you were supposed to hold your hands out, too,” she said, grinning.

Suddenly, Prompto wanted to die. 

“W-well… you didn’t say that! Why didn’t you say that?!” he yelped in an attempt to save his dignity, opening his eyes at last as he stared back at the woman. He wanted to be mad as well as embarrassed, but only managed to be embarrassed because the smile she had on her face right now was just, so pretty, and---

Aranea grabbed his wrist, lifting it up so she could place something in his hand. 

“A silver bangle,” she explained as she closed Prompto’s fingers around it. “Thought it could be of some use to you in battle, help protect you a little more. Stronger you are, the longer you’ll be able to protect someone else. Right?”

“R-right,” Prompto glanced down at the gift. It was nice and all, but… He let out a soft breath. “Thanks, Aranea.”

Prompto sure felt silly now. Hoping the show of gratitude was enough, he turned so he could start heading back to camp before he really did trip and fall on his face. He froze when he felt her hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

“Actually, I’ve got a little something else for you, too,” she replied. “A last minute purchase. Like those idiots who rush around to all of the flower shops on Mother’s Day, trying to find flowers after everything’s long since been sold out.” She smiled, again, as she coaxed Prompto to turn back around. “You’re sweet. Kinda cute too, I guess. Don’t ever lose that part of yourself. All right? Stay just the way you are.” 

Prompto wasn’t sure what she meant, and before he could ask, he felt the softest brush of lips against his own, and then, it was all over.

“Don’t stay up too late, Shortcake. Tomorrow’s gonna be a tough one.” Aranea tucked the longer side of his hair behind his ear, then stepped past him, heading back from whence they came.

Aranea Highwind…

He hoped he would see her again.


	19. With Cindy

With Cindy, it all worked out in the end.

Cindy Aurum deserved every good thing in the world.

Prompto thought Cindy was cute, sure. More than cute. She was beautiful. But that wasn’t why he was interested in her; he admired her for other reasons. She worked hard every single day, and she was damn good at her job, to boot. There really was a reason why she was famous and it had nothing to do with her looks. Most of the things she could do shouldn’t even be possible, and yet there was never a problem she couldn’t fix, no upgrade she couldn’t apply.

A talented, skilled lady who was kind and cheerful who never turned away someone who needed help? How could Prompto  _ not _ have feelings for her? But Gods, did he ever feel bad for having those feelings. He knew about some of the things she had to deal with on a daily basis from some of her customers, and the last thing he wanted was to bother her, too.

“Hey, Prom. You should ask her out,” Gladio said, grinning as he clapped his hand against Prompto’s upper back, sitting down in the chair beside  him. “What’s the harm? The worst she can say is no, right?”

The group sat outside the camper parked at Hammerhead one night, enjoying some dinner. The Regalia needed some desperate TLC, and Cindy told them she’d be able to finish the job tomorrow.

“Uh, yeah? But the point is that no  _ is _ the worst thing that can happen. And I.. don’t wanna bug her, y’know? I don’t wanna annoy her by approaching her about non-work related stuff. So... I can’t do it.” Prompto made a face, then glanced back down at his plate, hoping Gladio would drop the subject.

“Yeah, you can.” Of course he wouldn’t drop it.

“Nope,” Prompto replied.

“So you’re not even gonna try?”

“Nope.”

A sigh. “Prompto, you’re hopeless.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Come on, dude,” Noctis chimed in. “Why would she say no?”

“Uh, because she’s said many, many times that she’s married to her work and that she’s tired of being hit on all the time? I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring her and come off like all those dirty dudes she has to deal with every single day. I’m not gonna burden her. So, no. Can we just drop this, please?” Prompto knew he should have ate in the camper with Ignis tonight instead.

“Thing is, though, you’re not one of those ‘dirty dudes’, Prompto. Cindy knows you’re not like that,” Noct continued, despite Prompto’s request.

“Oh yeah? What, did she tell you that or something?” Prompto grumbled.

“Actually, yeah.”

Prompto snorted. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. I chatted with her the other day when she was giving the Regalia a tune-up. Turns out she thinks you’re cute, looks forward to when we pull up to the station. She said your smile’s ‘like a cup of sunshine’ in the morning.” Noctis smiled.

That sunshine began to glow. With redness. 

Noctis wouldn’t lie to him. But… Prompto had no idea what to do with this sudden turn of events.

The next morning, Prompto spent a long time silently arguing with himself and performing some kind of magic ritual to boost his confidence. He’d made up his mind. He… was going to go talk to her. He could do this. Yes, it was fine. Everything was good.

So, Prompto went to see Cindy while she worked on the car. They chatted about the weather, and Prompto made it a point to not come across like he was hitting on her. Casual. Innocent. She’d been working hard and he wanted to let her know that her work was appreciated. When Prompto slipped in how he was getting hungry, it was Cindy who suggested that they grab some food at Takka’s Pitstop for lunch, beating him to the punch, much to his surprise. 

Lunch was at noon. And so far, lunch was going well. Prompto, filled to the brim with nerves and the shakes, thankfully didn’t have to worry about keeping the conversation going, due to Cindy naturally being the chatty type. She talked about work, what she wanted to do on the weekend, and Prompto learned that she was a bit of a movie buff. So the conversation shifted to movies, and eventually, Cindy asked Prompto about his photography. Well, that was it. The words seemed to just spill out of him, and he even kind of sounded articulated and not nervous at all as he went on and on about his hobby.

It was a miracle.

“Oh, oh, and speaking of cameras, I’ve got a funny and... kinda embarrassing story for you,” Prompto began, just as Takka served them their milkshakes. “So, y’know how the Playstation came out with that camera accessory? Well, back in high school, I got one, just for the heck of it. Honestly, I didn’t even know what it really did, but I set it up anyway. It just sat there on my TV and did whatever it did while I played games.

“So, whenever I came home from school, I’d be tired, right? Like, I wanted nothing more than to just strip off all my clothes and relax in bed, play some games and stuff. I lived alone, in case you were wondering.” He grinned over at Cindy.

Cindy smiled, slowly sipping her milkshake as she watched Prompto with her glittery green eyes. “Uh oh. I’ve heard my fair share of anecdotes, Prompto, any that start out with someone being naked usually doesn’t end well.”

“You’re right!” Prompto laughed. “But don’t worry, this story is actually really funny. Okay, so. I used to play this racing game with Noct all the time. It was competitive, and whenever you beat your opponent it would give you a sec to talk smack to them through the headset, so we did. I usually won, just saying. So anyway, after I got the camera thing, I noticed something different on my screen. Some kinda small square in the top corner. It was too small for me to see what it actually was, so I didn’t pay much mind to it.”

“Oh, no,” Cindy groaned. She was laughing now, grinning wide as she put two and two together. “Prompto, noooooo!”’

“One day, I guess Noct finally looked at that little square on his side of the TV, and all I heard on the other end was ‘Prompto, what the hell?!’ I didn’t know what he was even talking about. I tried to ask what was going on, but all I could hear in my headphones was him yelling and screaming in disgust.” Prompto was laughing now, too, and when he glanced over at Cindy...

Cindy had been mid-milkshake-sip when suddenly she began to laugh again. She snorted and burst out laughing, and Prompto swore he saw a bit of milkshake shoot out of her nose. “Oh crap, Cindy, you okay?” Prompto grabbed some napkins and held them out to her, and as she wiped her face she continued to laugh.

“Oh my gosh,” she managed between giggles, “No way! You were sending him pictures?! You must have been so embarrassed!” 

“Oh yeah. Tell me about it. He wouldn’t let me live  _ that _ one down, ever.” Prompto was still laughing, but now that the moment was over, he suddenly felt a bit embarrassed for telling her that. Oops. He glanced away shyly, clearing his throat. “And, uh, so concludes the story of how I was accidentally sending nude selfies to my best friend for probably weeks.”

“Can’t say that’s ever happened to me, but lemme tell you, I’ve got my fair share of embarrassing stories too. A few that might even be worse than that. Maybe I’ll tell you one sometime,” Cindy replied, winking. She took one last sip of her milkshake before she glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Well, Prompto, I’m afraid my break’s over. You know... I had a lot of fun. Been awhile since I’ve laughed that hard! It was really nice.”

“Heh… it was my pleasure, Cindy,” Prompto replied as he looked back at her. He smiled, then averted his gaze once more. “Next time I’m at Hammerhead, we could… maybe... do this again?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Cindy got to her feet. She was still smiling. “Thank you, Prompto, for lunch. You’re really sweet, you know that? Never quite met someone like you before.”

Oops, there came the blush.

It got even brighter, when Cindy leaned in and kissed his cheek, her lips adding to the warmth.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay? Maybe we could grab a snack before y’all have to head off on your way.”

“I’d… I’d like that, Cindy,” Prompto replied softly. Cindy waved over her shoulder, and as Prompto watched her walk away, he exhaled slowly and just… smiled to himself as he finished his own milkshake. He couldn’t believe this had happened, and that… she actually thought his story about sending accidental nudes was funny.

And so ended their first date of many to come. On their fourth date, Cindy told Prompto a story that ended with Cindy having to give him the heimlich maneuver, as he’d accidentally inhaled a piece of his burger from laughing so hard. The date ended in his first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the story Prompto told to Cindy is actually based on a true story. (No, it didn't happen to me! But rather to someone I know, LOL.)


	20. Dogs

Early that morning, instead of waking up to the delicious smell of Ignis cooking breakfast, he was woken up by something else.

Prompto had rolled over from his usual sleeping spot, practically right up against the thin fabric of the side of the tent. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, but it was the first time he felt something nudging him from the other side. Nudging. Sniffing. Snorting. It woke him up, and for a second he had no idea what was going on. Then, his nerves rose. A daemon? But they can’t enter havens, right?!

Right. Which meant… it wasn’t a daemon. Then… what was it?

Carefully, he got to his feet and stepped around the sprawled mess of limbs that were his still-sleeping companions and made his way cautiously out of the tent. He readied his guns, just in case the haven was broken somehow and there were daemons waiting for him on the other side.  _ Jerks. Poking me in my sleep...  just who do they think they are?! _

Peering around the tent, he started to wonder if it had been a figment of his imagination, but then…

Well, they weren’t daemons, but they were still something he’d never expected to see out in the middle of nowhere.

Dogs.

Not one, but two of them. They laid by the edge of the tent, and upon seeing Prompto, their tails began to wag simultaneously,  _ thump thump thump _ against the cold hard ground.

Two beagles, a little on the thin side, a little scraggly looking, but otherwise they seemed like they were still in good health. Prompto couldn’t help but smile, approaching them slowly. “Hey buddies,” he cooed, kneeling beside them. He held out his hand, letting them both smell it before they scooted closer to him, accepting this touch. “It’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you.”

It was no secret that Prompto loved dogs. He’d always wanted one of his own, but the closest he ever got was when he took care of Lunafreya’s dog, Pryna, that one time when he was younger. So this… was awesome. He had no idea where these dogs had come from, or why, but he didn’t care right now. If he was dreaming, then this was pretty much the best dream ever.

Prompto, lost in his dog-filled present, rolled over on the ground laughing while the two dogs coated in him slobbery kisses. He remained blissfully unaware that he was no longer alone until he heard the smooth voice above him.

“Well, well. The world really has gone to the dogs after all,” Ignis said, an amused smirk on his face, a can of Ebony in hand as he looked down at Prompto.

“Oh, hey Iggy. Care to join us?”  Prompto grinned.

And Ignis did.

Ignis had always been a cat person, Prompto learned, but it turned out he had a soft spot for dogs, too. Animals in general. Prompto watched in awe as Ignis allowed the dogs to climb on him, the man whispering sweet nothings as he rubbed at the dogs’ ears.

Prompto had never been more jealous of a dog in his life.

Jesse and James. Prompto had been so invested in the fact that dogs were here, right now, that he’d failed to notice that they were wearing matching collars. Tags engraved with their names and place of residence hung from them, revealing that they were from Lestallum - how they managed to get all the way out here was a mystery, but Prompto was glad that he’d woken up so they could help them get back home.

Jesse and James always sat in the front seat with Prompto and Ignis while they drove.

Prompto took countless selfies with them.

Ignis slipped them a steak or two, at dinner time.

And when they finally made it back to Lestallum, it was a tearful goodbye as Prompto and Ignis stood in front of the house that matched the address on the dogs’ tags. Prompto didn’t want to part ways, but he knew that it was the right thing to do, as hard as it was. The dogs had families of their own, who were probably missing them dearly.

“Aw, I’m gonna miss you guys so much,” Prompto knelt beside them, rubbing their cheeks and hugging them. “You guys be good, okay?”

Ignis just smiled as he watched Prompto fuss over them. “They’ll be happy to be home.” he said, offering Prompto a hand. “I’m glad we were able to bring them home. Thanks to you, of course.”

Prompto gave them one last hug before he took Ignis’ hand, allowing the man to help him up to his feet once more. “Think we could adopt a dog? Y’know, I always thought the group could use a traveling buddy. Luna’s got two dogs, y’know? So what’s the harm in having at least one?”

Ignis chuckled. “Perhaps later on down the road, once all is said and done. A little house in the country sounds perfect. Two dogs and a cat. What do you think?”

“Come on, dude, you and I both know that there’d be at least two, maybe three, cats. This is you we’re talking about,” Prompto grinned wide.

Prompto didn’t let go of his hand, even after he’d knocked on the door and it opened, the dogs rushing inside immediately. They were home at last, and while Ignis chatted with their owners, Prompto stood at his side and thought about his future home, the animal-filled one in the countryside with Ignis.


	21. Studying

Prompto hated bugs.

Unfortunately, his job meant that he had to be outside pretty much all the time, and outside meant bugs. Lots of them. Whether small, ‘normal’-sized bugs, or oh-my-God-what-even-IS-that sized bugs, they were everywhere. His hatred of them stemmed from an intense fear that began with a wasp sting that he had endured when he was little (he was eating raisins and it attracted a wasp. He hated raisins now, too), and an incident with a spider in high school (he was kind of scared of thrift stores after that). Regardless, he didn’t exactly sign up for a bug safari when he left Insomnia, but now he had no choice but to figure out how to live in harmony with them from then on.

Ugh. But why? Couldn’t they just... stay away?! Unfortunately, not even bug repellant could save him from his creepy-crawly-flying reality. Dealing with bugs was now part of his job.

So, in a desperate attempt to coexist, he decided to study them. He’d picked up an old bug encyclopedia the last time they’d combed through the marketplace, and when he had some downtime, usually in the car, he’d read it, learning about all kinds of different bug species. He hated to admit it, but it was actually really fascinating. Bugs were still freaky, of course, but now they were also kinda neat, too.

One night, it was a little too dark to read his book so he decided to read some research articles on his phone instead, sitting in front of the campfire.

“Hey, Prom,” Gladio greeted, stepping out from the tent and walking over to the cooler so he could grab a beer. Prompto didn’t reply. He approached him from behind and gave him a nudge. “Hey. Eos to Prompto. You there?”

“Oh, hey Gladio,” Prompto replied after a moment. “Sorry. I’m just in the middle of reading something. Had to finish that paragraph.”

“Eh? What’re you reading now? More bug stuff?” Gladio asked. He’d noticed Prompto reading that gigantic book of bugs in the car as of late, and being a bit of a reading buff himself, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Yep. Bug stuff. Specifically, killer wasps. Oh, and tarantulas. Not really in that order, or at the same time. Got a couple tabs open in my phone’s browser.” Prompto glanced over his shoulder at the other and smiled. 

“So, why the bug thing?” Gladio cracked open his beer.

“I hate them,” Prompto said simply.

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “And… you’re spending all your time reading about them because you hate them?”

Prompto waved his hand. “Dude. If you wanna beat your enemy, you gotta know your enemy, right? I thought that maybe if I understood them a bit more, I’d be less scared of’ ‘em.”

“Yeah? And how’s that going for you so far?” Gladio smirked as he slowly sipped his beverage.

“Actually… pretty good! A bee flew by me earlier and I didn’t run away, so I consider that progress.” Prompto started tapping away at his phone screen again.

“And how about spiders?” Gladio asked.

“Pfffff. Spiders? No sweat. They just hang out in their webs and eat other bugs. I’ve come to respect them for that, y’know, eating those more evil than them. They’re OK in my books. Well, at least the small ones. Ones bigger than my foot are a different story. And ones bigger than me as a whole, well, sorry, but we’re never gonna be cool with each other, no way no how.”

“Oh, yeah? So small ones are okay?” Gladio slowly stepped closer to Prompto.

“I guess? I mean, I’m not about to go running through a ton of cobwebs or anything anytime soon, but the concept of a small spider doesn’t really bother me anymore.” Prompto’s attention was back on his phone, and now he was kinda wanting Gladio to go. No offense to him or anything, but the article he was reading was starting to get really, really good.

“Uh, Prom,” Gladio began. 

“What?” Prompto groaned.

“There’s a spider on the back of your chair.”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Prompto grumbled.

“No, seriously, it’s there. It’s huge. It’s coming up. It’s gonna get you if you don’t move.”

“Hilarious, Gladio. Hey, can you grab me a beer?”

“Sure, but the spider’s gonna get you while I’m gone.”

“Uh huh,” Prompto said, disinterested.

Gladio touched the back of the chair with his hand, his fingers simulating the motions of a spider. “Shit. It’s really on a mission.”

“Wow.”

“Seriously, here it comes. I think it’s going for your hair. It’s got a thing for blonds. Perfect nest material.” Gladio’s hand slowly made its way up the back support of the chair.

“Golly. That’s really specific. Are you a spider whisperer?” Prompto murmured.

“Actually, yeah, I am. Well, anyway, guess I’ll go get you that beer.” Gladio turned and began to walk away, giving Prompto the illusion that he had left temporarily.

He peered over and saw that Prompto was invested in his phone again. Perfect. When he was sure that Prompto had lowered his guard, he returned, quickly creeping his spider-hand up Prompto’s back and finally to the back of his neck as tickled him there. “Shit! I tried to warn you!” Gladio exclaimed.

Prompto knew it was coming, and yet it still got a reaction out of him and he hated it. He felt his nerves rise and immediately upon contact he yelped, scrambling to his feet as he ran around to the opposite side of the campfire.

“Dammit, Gladio! Not funny!” Prompto gasped. 

Gladio laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Thought you and small spiders were savvy now.”

“Uh, your hand is anything but small? Man, you’re… you’re really gonna get it,” Prompto exhaled slowly, feeling his heart race. “When you least suspect it… you’re reaaaaally gonna get it.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Gladio said, still laughing as he waved his hand dismissively and disappeared back into the tent.

Well.

A few weeks later, Prompto followed through on his promise. He found a spider the size of his palm and may or may not have let it crawl across Gladio’s face while he slept. Gladio… never teased Prompto about bugs again, and in the days that followed, Gladio began reading up on spiders. Y’know, studying them. Gotta know your enemy, right?


	22. Swimming

Prompto had no idea how he got roped into being waist-deep in swamp water, scanning the murky waters for a glimpse of the Rainbow Frogs of Legend, and yet, here he was.

They’d ran a few errands for Sania the frog scientist already, but this one… well, this one was probably the worst one yet. There was a reason why the rainbow frogs were legendary - it was because he was pretty sure that they didn’t even exist. According to Ignis, though, they did, as the man had spent a fair amount of time researching the most likely locations that they could inhabit and marked up their map accordingly. So far, their search had turned up nothing, though. Two of the six locations he’d marked up had been a bust, which left four more left before they were back to square one.

They had to find five of these things. How the heck were they going to manage that?!

“Keep searching,” said Ignis, who opted to stay on dry land while the remaining three sloshed around in the swamp. “I’m certain this is the place. It has to be.”

“Uh huh,” Prompto shot back, “If you’re so ‘certain’, then how come you’re not in here swimming around with us?”

“He’s got a point, Iggy,” Gladio muttered. He’d just tripped on a tree root and was soaked from head to toe, and looked very close to being 100% done.

Noctis groaned. “This is pointless. Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because Sania’s a nice lady and she needs help with her research. She asked us a favor. Think it’s the least we could do to give her a hand,” Gladio replied.

“But we’ve already helped her out a bunch of times. I think you’ve just got a thing for her,” Noctis said, lifting a mound of smelly, half-rotten leaves off the water’s surface and making a very appropriate face in the process.

“I do not,” Gladio denied.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you always rush over to chat her up whenever we see her?”

“Because, as I said, as a fellow outdoorsman, it’s only polite to---”

“Dude, can you guys shut up already?” Prompto snapped. “We’re soaking wet and I’m getting tired of swimming around. Really don’t need the commentary.”

“For once, I am in agreement with Prompto.” Ignis paused. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Noctis practically wailed.

A croak echoed from somewhere.

“That,” Ignis added. “Coming from over there, around the bend.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” someone complained. Could have been any of them, really.

“Hurry!” Ignis began jogging along the shore, leaving the others no choice but to swim after him.

There was no frog to be found.

“All right, I’m out,” Gladio muttered, taking long strides over to the shore.

“What happened to helping out Sania? It’s ‘only polite’ right?” Noctis chided.

Gladio didn’t reply.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me now, buddy,” Prompto said, looking over at Noctis.

“Won’t be for very long. I think I’m done, too,” Noctis replied, staring at the two outside the water and feeling really jealous that Ignis was in dry clothing. The jerk.

“But we’re just so close! So close I can practically taste it!” Prompto exclaimed. He paused. “Er, on second thought, no. I don’t know what frogs taste like. Ew.”

“Uh, Prompto?” Noctis began.

“What?” Prompto yawned.

“Sahagin.”

“Gesundheit.”

“No, Prompto. SAHAGIN. OVER THERE. COMING RIGHT FOR US.”

“Huh?” Prompto turned his head, just in time to see a pack of about four or five Sahagin, toddling through the muddy water towards them.

“Oh. Oh! Oh, crap!” he yelped. 

They never did find the Rainbow Frog of Legend that day, but at the very least they all got plenty of exercise.


	23. Alone

Growing up, Prompto had always been alone.

It was okay, though. After all, he got to have the whole house to himself, most of the time. He could do whatever he wanted. Eat whatever he wanted. Watch TV. Stay up late. Play video games instead of doing homework (he never did, though; he was too much of a goody-good to miss homework). Spend a little too long fiddling with the flowers by his house, trying to get the perfect shot with his camera. No one to tell him otherwise, no one to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do.

It was pretty sweet, actually.

No one bothered him at school. He was big, sure, but no one seemed to give him a hard time about it. Actually, no one even paid him much mind at all. No one talked to him. No one so much as glanced at him. No one invited him out to play, or jumped at the chance to be his partner in a group project. No one ate lunch with him during break time.

But it was okay. The less people he had in his life, the less likely it was for him to be hurt by them, right? That’s what he’d tell himself, every single day. That it was okay. That it was okay to be alone.

But if it was okay, then why did he find himself steadily growing tired of the life he was living? His peaceful life of solitude, where he had no rules to follow, no schedule to keep, no responsibilities, no people to deal with on a regular basis? Every day was the same. Eat, sleep, wake up. Go to school. Eat, sleep, wake up. Go to school. Take a few photos here and there. Smile at a dog. 

Watch as his classmates ran by him, holding hands and laughing. Where were they off to, he wondered? Maybe the park? Or the arcade? Why did it matter to him?

If it was okay, then why did he find himself wanting to join them?

He didn’t know. And even if he did know, he didn’t know how to be a part of that world, anyway. A world where he had friends, just like those kids did. Could he just… go up to them, talk to them, ask if he could come along for awhile?

No. He couldn’t.

Alone he’d remain, then. 

Until that day when he met a certain puppy, and it changed his life forever.


	24. VS XIII

Today, Prompto decided he was going to make an impression when he stopped outside of his house. Lately, he’d been reading up on fashion, and apparently the whole ‘minimalist’ thing was in. ‘Simple does it’, was the slogan. So, he’d gone to the thrift store and dug up what he could buy with some pocket change to see what he could come up with. When he returned, he dressed himself in his new rags and messed with his appearance in other ways, just to see how he’d look.

Plain white shirt. Plain black vest. Plain black pants. Hair, unstyled and a little messy, hanging long around his face. On his cheeks was concealer, hiding the freckles that normally decorated his skin and gave him character.

When he looked in the mirror before leaving the house, though, he realized he looked… plain. Boring. It didn’t suit him at all. A stranger stared back at him, like he was peeking into some kind of portal and seeing a version of himself from another universe, one not fated to exist. The stranger laughed at him. Oh, wait, that was him. Laughing at himself.  
  
_On second thought, maybe I’ll rock the freckles and plaid today after all,_ he decided, shaking his head and turning so he could disappear back into his room to get changed into something else, smudging the makeup on his face. Sometimes, less wasn’t more.


	25. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to a sweet special someone who has burrowed his way into my heart as my favourite character of all time. I hope he likes this Promnis-flavoured birthday cake in the form of a fic, and that you do too! <3
> 
> By the way, thank you for all of your lovely comments (I'LL BE REPLYING TO ALL OF THEM EVENTUALLY) and kudos so far. You're all awesome.
> 
> Also, please [check out this incredible piece my best friend did for Prompto's birthday!](http://godspoison.tumblr.com/post/166791093074/happy-birthday-to-the-photographer-extraordinaire)

Prompto wasn’t sure what came over him that morning. As he sat there on his Coleman’s chair by the remains of last night’s fire, the embers snapping and popping by his feet, he stared over at the nearby food prep table. For some reason, he was filled with the insatiable urge to touch something he knew he shouldn’t, to flip through the pages of what could possibly be the equivalent to a certain someone’s personal diary.

Ignis’ recipe book.

There it sat on the food prep table. Like a priceless golden idol on a pedestal, it called to Prompto, begging him to touch it, daring him to flip through it. What would be the harm? It was just a recipe book, right? Ignis was off at the nearby lake on laundry duty with Gladio, and Noct was off fishing, meaning everyone would be occupied for a while. The moment was perfect. It was like someone had wrapped this opportunity up like a conveniently boxed present and dropped it into his hands, complete with a shiny, glittery ribbon weaved with temptation.

And yet, his conscience reprimanded him for the very thought, arguing with him in his head.

_ Don’t touch it, Prompto. _

_ It’s just a recipe book! _

_ Yeah, but you know how protective Ignis is over his stuff! _

_ C’mon, one little peek won’t hurt. It’s just. A. Recipe. Book. _

_ Yeah, a book that still isn’t yours? Don’t do it! _

_ “Hey, Prompto,” the book said in a deep voice, “Fancy a look-see at my sweet, sweet content?” _

Oh, great. Now the damn book itself was taunting him. It radiated an aura, as if it were some kind of mystical tome of power from an RPG, just waiting for someone of a high enough level to stumble upon it and discover the magic within its pages. 

Oh, no. Now it was even more tempting.

Before he could stop himself, there it was, in his hands, and he was back in his chair.

Crap. 

Well, now that it was here in his possession, he may as well just do it. Just a peek. It would be quick. Ignis would never know. Right? What was he so protective over, anyway? It wasn’t like it was a big secret that the man copied recipes out of books in the marketplace, or that he analyzed a cook’s dish until he was able to pinpoint every single ingredient so he could replicate it himself later. It wasn’t like the book contained patents that he could copyright to his own name. Right?

So what was one little peek?

Prompto swallowed his conscience in favor of exploring the book. He opened it carefully, thumbing through the pages slowly as his eyes passed over the words written on each page. Ignis’ writing was neat and legible. Even the entries that looked written in haste were damn near font-worthy. How was that fair? Maybe that was why he didn’t want anyone to see his book. The scandal of his secret double life of being a font designer would be exposed to the world.

Looking at all the recipes was a little like taking a trip down memory lane. In some ways, it was like Ignis’ scrapbook. He’d written down the names of the places where he’d learned the recipe, and if he knew the name of the original chef, he’d written it down in a little box at the bottom of the page. Prompto recognized most of the dish names and every single one of them had been delicious, even the ones that he had been apprehensive about at first. No wonder Ignis was so meticulous when it came to writing down a recipe - it was to ensure a perfect replication. And he always succeeded.

Oh, hey, he especially remembered this recipe in particular. ‘Carp of the Diem’. Gladio hadn’t been able to stop singing its praises the first time they’d had it. Prompto smiled as he remembered that night. That was a good night. Good food, good company. As he studied the page a little closer, he realized that there was something different about it that he hadn’t noticed until now.

There was a “G” written in the top right-hand corner.

“G” for what?

Wait. 

“G”… for Gladio?

Oh. It wasn’t coincidental. As he continued sifting through the book, he discovered that more pages were labeled, each one matching a dish that he knew that person was fond of. “G” for Gladio, “N” for Noct, and even “P” for Prompto.

Ignis had been keeping track of all of their favourite foods.

It was actually really heartwarming. Ignis… he really cared about everyone, huh? If he didn’t, then why would he even bother taking notes like that? Not that Prompto had any doubt in his mind that Ignis was their friend, it was just… nice to see him express it, in his own little way. He knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence when their favourite meals would start popping up more frequently, especially if one person in particular had had a rough day or something. 

Now that he had noticed this detail, he flipped back to some of the previous pages to check them out, see where else the letters appeared. And in doing so, he noticed one more little detail: all of the “P” pages had a double underline under the letter. Huh. Was there a reason? Prompto didn’t dwell on it for very long, though, as he was far more interested in the fact that there was a severe lack of “I” pages.

Odd. Did Ignis not have a favourite?

No, he definitely did. And besides, it was his book. Why would he label anything as ‘I’? Ignis didn’t speak in third person. Oh, but wait--- this page had a star in the top corner. Could this one be Ignis’ favourite? No… no way. It only had two ingredients! But then again, he remembered the small hint of a smile Ignis had had on his face the last time they’d stopped by The Crow’s Nest. What had he ordered? A Kenny’s Original?

Oh. Look. This was definitely the recipe he had written down that day. It matched. Prompto smiled. Ignis was a man of simple tastes, he’d learned.

Prompto continued browsing. The next “P” page was for spicy curry. Damn right he’d loved that one. He’d made sure to compliment the chef many, many times that night. Best damn meal he’d ever had, actually. Ignis seemed pleased that he’d made a hit, and Prompto remembered how handsome Ignis had looked sitting by the fire that night.

The book was an ongoing work in progress. But despite Ignis adding to it all the time, the man had somehow managed to keep it organized, even going so far as to make a tab system to separate the sections. Dessert had its own section, and beyond that was a tab that was unlabeled. Huh. What could this be?

Beyond the unlabeled page wasn’t recipes, but rather hastily written notes. Some that were nonsensical to Prompto, but probably made at least some sense to Ignis. Others were notes that Ignis had written about everyone. Little things like 'Gladio best enjoys his Cup Noodle at a temperature of exactly 100 degrees', 'Beans off the menu for Noct, but had successfully served them in a pureed form mixed in ground meat for added nutritional value'. Heh. Oh, man. If Noct knew, he’d flip. Prompto smirked at the forbidden knowledge he’d just gained.

The miscellaneous tabbed section turned out to be kind of interesting, when it made sense. More similar notes about food and everyone’s preferences. Other random comments regarding how to prep some ingredients and the like. Notes about daemon’s weak points. Then, hidden among the tidbits of knowledge a few pages later, he came across one note that stood out from the rest.

'October 25th'.

That was all it said. It looked like it had been written over a few times, as if it were an attempt to make it look bolded. It was also underlined, like, five times.

Prompto's heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Normally he'd pay no attention to a random date, but... that was... That was…

His birthday.

October 25th was his birthday.

But why?

Why was his birthday written down, and in such a way to make it stand out? There was no way all that extra detailing wasn’t done on purpose.

Oh… oh shit.

Tomorrow… happened to be his birthday.

Was… Ignis planning something?

Suddenly, he became aware of just how much mystic power the recipe book he held in his hands possessed. He’d been right. It really was a powerful tome of mystery, filled to the brim with secrets and sorcery. The double underlined “P”. The birthday note.

Did… did Ignis...

Prompto turned bright red as a hundred different emotions and thoughts hit him all at once, weighing down on him like a blanket heavy with retained water. Feeling more than just slightly overwhelmed, he clapped the book shut, quickly scrambling back over to the table to return it to its rightful place, nearly tripping over his own feet twice in the process.

There. The golden idol had been returned to its pedestal.

Prompto’s heart was racing.

The wait for tomorrow was going to be brutal.

And it was.

The following day was awesome, though. Everyone said happy birthday to him right away. Gladio, unfortunately, insisted on giving him ‘birthday bumps’ as a gift before he slipped him a gift card to use toward music downloads. Noctis gave him a new case for his camera. Ignis gave him a sweater, a nice and cozy one at that, and even if Gladio and Noct teased him for his gift choice, Prompto thought it was great. He got chilly sometimes, so the heavier top was definitely needed. It was really thoughtful. Had Ignis noticed him shiver a little when it got dark?

In that moment, he learned that Ignis had paid him far more attention than Prompto had originally thought. 

The rest of the day was normal, only now Prompto couldn’t stop thinking about Ignis.

Ignis Scientia.

Prompto had always been fond of him. As it turned out, the man was really kind and had an awesome sense of humour, to boot. To Prompto’s surprise, they actually had a lot in common, and there would be times when they would stay up later than the other guys and have long conversations before finally heading to bed. They even listened to some of the same music. 

Somewhere along the way… Prompto had gained a little bit of a crush on him. Now, that crush was making itself painfully obvious, his heart aching something fierce while butterflies fluttered in the pit of his stomach every single time he looked at him. And for what? An assumption he’d made while sneaking a look at Ignis’ recipe book?

No.. he’d liked him this whole time. He knew this. Ever since they first met, Prompto had felt a little funny around him. But now, there was a chance that Ignis liked him in return. And it made all the difference in the world.

Later, it was finally time for dinner. Prompto pretended to be really invested in his cell phone as he sat by the fire, trying not to look Ignis’ way at all since they’d returned from their day’s hunts. Ignis was cooking, and when Prompto glanced up he noticed that the others were nowhere to be found. Huh. 

“Prompto, could you come here for a moment?” came Ignis’ voice.

Prompto’s heart stopped.

Well. Here goes nothing.

There he was. Ignis, standing beside his cooking table. Spicy curry, served on two plates. Noct and Gladio were still MIA. He’d been kind of mad at them for apparently ditching on his birthday, but now he understood. Something was happening. Something... special. 

Something about Ignis was different tonight. Maybe his shirt had been ironed with more care than usual, or maybe it was his hair that was styled just right. Even his suspenders seemed like they were perfectly placed in the middle of his shoulders, his shirt collar perfectly folded. Prompto wasn’t sure if he was just imagining things, but… Ignis just… looked ten times more handsome than usual right now.

Before Ignis could say anything else, Prompto spoke, interrupting his train of thought.

“Sorry, this is incredible and all, but I have to confess something before I go nuts,” he said quickly.

Ignis blinked, taken aback. “Very well… what is it, Prompto?” he asked.

Prompto took in a slow breath, bracing himself for a potential disaster. “I… peeked in your recipe book yesterday,” he admitted, eyes downcast. He really did feel bad about it, now. Not only was the book kinda personal, he’d accidentally ruined a surprise. Sort of. It still managed to be a surprise.

Ignis seemed to relax a little. “Ah. I see. And how was that for you?” he asked casually.

“It was, uh, enlightening,” Prompto replied. Good. Ignis didn’t seem mad at him. Or was he? Sometimes Prompto couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your stuff. Won’t do it again.”

“It’s quite all right, Prompto. I appreciate your honesty.” Ignis smiled at him, shifting his weight to his opposite foot. Looking handsome. As always.

Well, that was a relief. Only now, there was silence, and a whole lot of it.

Oh, Gods. What sort of mess had he gotten himself into? Now things were awkward, and… it was just the two of them, standing there, in front of a meal that Ignis had clearly cooked for him and only him--- well no, obviously it was for both him and Ignis since there were two plates instead of one, or four, but---

He remembered those underlined “P”’s and that super underlined “October 25th”.

He just… he just had to know. 

“I’ve.. got another question for you, too.” Prompto’s heart was racing again. It was practically screaming at him, longing to burst from his chest so it could be in Ignis’ hands instead. Where it belonged.

“What is it, Prompto?” Ignis asked softly.

It was a long moment before Prompto spoke again. “How long has it been?” he asked in a small voice.

“...I beg your pardon?” was Ignis’ reply.

Prompto took another deep breath before he continued. “That you’ve liked me.”

Prompto saw Ignis’ Adam’s Apple twitch, just a little, as the man cleared his throat. He saw a hint of his usual calm composure cracking for a split second. Had he been right?

But Ignis… wasn’t replying. Nerves were on the rise.

“It’s... ah… been quite some time,” Ignis said at last. It was like the man had shrunk right then, his proper posture deflating somewhat.

“How long, Ignis?” Prompto urged. 

Ignis took a short breath. “...four years,” he uttered.

Prompto stopped breathing. He felt dizzy. Four years… wait, but that meant… “Dude, but that’s… how long you’ve known me?” he said slowly, hoping his voice wasn’t cracking from the nerves constricting his throat.

Ignis cleared his throat again, adjusted his glasses that didn’t need adjustment and pulled at the cuff of one of his gloves. “Yes. That’s right,” he replied hurriedly.

Ignis… was nervous. Clearly. Prompto had never seen him act like this before. Well, he himself was nervous, too, so at the very least they had yet another thing in common.

Was Ignis’ heart also screaming?

Before Prompto could reply, Ignis stepped closer to the table. “Happy birthday, Prompto,” he said gently, lifting up one of the plates and holding it out to him.

“...my favourite,” Prompto murmured, smiling shyly. He trembled, but despite he managed to take the plate from Ignis without dropping it. Yet. “But you knew that, right?”

“Correct.” Ignis picked up the other plate.

“It was one of the ‘P’ recipes,” Prompto added.

Ignis chuckled. “Also correct.”

“You… remembered my birthday.” Prompto glanced up, meeting Ignis’ gaze.

“Of course I did, Prompto. I made sure I couldn’t ever forget. After all, it’s a very important day,” the man articulated. 

Prompto wanted to cry.

“....four years,” Prompto whispered.

“Pardon?”

“...It’s been... four years. Since, I, uh…” Prompto fidgeted with his pocket chain, using his free hand. “Since I knew I liked you, too. Four years… and neither of us knew… that the other had felt the same… the entire time. Heh.”

Ignis set his plate back down on the table, stepping closer to the other. “So it would seem,” he replied. His tone was warm. Loving. And so was his hand in Prompto’s hair, gently coaxing the other to step closer to himself.

Prompto’s heart was halfway through his ribcage now.

“I…” Prompto tried to say something. Anything. Anything at all. But all he drew were blanks. He nearly dropped his plate right then, scrambling to get it back over to the table before he could. “Crap.”

“It’s all right. The curry is safe from the jitters,” Ignis mused. “Can’t quite say the same about you, though. Are you all right, Prompto?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m just… really happy,” Prompto admitted. He took a deep, slow breath, trying his best not to ruin the moment any more than he already had. “Ignis… thank you so much for this. For dinner. For… everything. For always being there for me, for watching out for me this whole time. For taking the time to chat with me, even if it was about something unimportant, or just... silly. For... forgiving me for snooping in your cookbook,” Prompto added with a laugh. “And... thank you. For… caring… about me.” 

Ignis listened, stepping closer to him as he did so. “You are very welcome. It was my pleasure.” The man watched Prompto for a moment. Ignis looked content. Calm. Prompto could see himself in the reflection of his glasses, wishing he could see Ignis’ gorgeous green eyes instead. Ignis slid his hand away from his hair before he continued.

“Happy birthday, Prompto,” Ignis repeated. Then, Prompto felt a pair of deft hands on his waist, and the space between them closed as Ignis embraced him. Prompto’s night-air-kissed skin warmed, then, and he swore it became harder to breathe. Their screaming hearts escaped their chests at last and met halfway, beating as one from that point on.


	26. Action

“Prompto! Prompto, come quick! Look what Monica got for me!”

Talcott’s voice echoed off the walls the second Prompto stepped foot into the house at Cape Caem. He’d been working in the garden with the other guys all day, eager for some time off his feet and maybe some quiet time, but then there was Talcott. He didn’t mind, though. How could he say no to Talcott? Every second he spent with the kid was precious.

“What’s up, lil’ bro?” Prompto replied with a smile. The words were barely out of his mouth when he suddenly found himself taken hostage by Talcott. The boy grabbed him by the wrist and hurriedly tugged him along, leading him over to the nearby table.

“Look! Look!” Talcott was bouncing on his feet as he gestured to a small pile of boxes on the table top. “Monica told me that one day, she’s gonna train me to be a part of the Crownsguard! I wanted to start training now, but she said I was too little.”

“Heh, yeah, it’s dangerous stuff, bud. She made a good call there,” Prompto said as he peered over at the boxes, curious. “So, whatcha got there?”

“I was getting to that! Look, Prompto! I can’t be in the Crownsguard right now, but she said I can practice with these until I’m big enough.” Talcott pushed the boxes over to Prompto, the top two sliding off the pile. 

Well.

This was definitely something he’d never expected to see in a million years.

Sealed within each of the four packages was an action figure. As Prompto inspected each one, it soon became clear that they were modelled after people he knew. Noctis. Gladiolus. Ignis. And finally, himself. 

Prompto laughed, both from surprise and the sheer absurdity of what was in front of him. “What the heck? Where did Monica get these?!” 

“She said she got them in the Lestallum flea market! Aren’t they cool?!” Talcott grinned. “See? There’s you!”

“Yeah, that’s me, all right.” Prompto held up the ‘Prompto’ action figure to get a better look. The toys were obviously bootlegs of some other official merchandise, altered to look like himself and his group. The paint job on ‘Prompto’ was terrible, the face slightly askew and the hair tips chipped in some places. Other details were missing, such as his freckles and the patches on his clothing, and he was wearing the completely wrong shoes. Cowboy boots? What the heck did they use for reference?!

He turned the package around. “Oh, hey, didja see? There’s even character profiles.” He began to read ‘his’ aloud.

“‘In spite of the painful past, smiley prompts’----” Prompto didn’t even make it past the first sentence before he burst out laughing. “‘Smiley prompts’?! Is that my new name now?”

Talcott began to giggle too. “Read the one for Ignis!”

“Oh, man. Okay, okay. Let’s see.” Prompto set his action figure aside for the time being in favour of the one of Ignis. Ignis’ action figure was… okay. His face was a little long, though, and the glasses were crooked and had no lenses. The best part? Instead of daggers for weapons, he had a frying pan and spatula. He couldn’t wait to show Ignis this later.

“‘Norwegian faithful advisor Ignis’---” he began. “Wait, what? Norwegian?! Where even is that?” He laughed, then continued. “--’is rational, witty, and his instruction deserves credibility’. Well, it’s not wrong. ‘He is also intellectual, talented, owner of excellent cooking skills.’ Okay, it’s actually pretty spot on. Other than the Norwegian thing.”

The other two figure boxes weren’t too bad in comparison, but the paint jobs on the figures themselves were particularly terrible. Gladio’s tattoos were just a bunch of smears, and for some reason Noctis’ shoes were pink. But, overall, they were about a six out of ten. Not bad for the very first pieces Crownsguard merchandise, unofficial as they were.

“So, should we bust open these bad boys?” Prompto said with a grin. When Talcott gave him the go ahead, he opened up the packages and lined the action figures along the table. The figures had movable joints, but the construction was so shoddy, he was worried that they’d snap right off if you so much as touched them. “Hey, be careful with these, okay?” he warned. “They’re really delicate.”

“I will!” Talcott already had Gladiolus in hand, experimentally moving one of the arms up and down. Prompto watched nervously, expecting it to snap off right away, but… amazingly, so far, so good.

And so came the dramatic showdown. Talcott played Noctis and Gladiolus, while Prompto took on himself and Ignis. According to Talcott, Prompto and Ignis were aliens in disguise and needed to be sent back to their home planet. (Well, okay. Maybe Talcott was onto something there.) Then, they were flying across the room. All right, cool. Noctis had a pet Cactuar that he threw at Ignis and Prompto, revealing their true forms (according to Talcott, the aliens were green and tentacle-y, like Malboros). Right when it came time for the final battle, suddenly there was Gladiolus, coming down from above, and--- SNAP. There went his arm.

“Oh no!” Talcott yelped. 

The arm landed on the floor. Prompto picked it up, checking out the damage to see if it was salvageable. “Oops. Looks like the peg snapped. Don’t worry, though! I’ll fix it up and he’ll be as good as new, okay?”

Talcott nodded, pouting. Well, crap. Better find a solution, and fast. Dammit Gladio, why were you so brittle?!

Just then, the front door opened and in stepped the man of the hour, Gladio himself. “Hey you two,” he greeted. Talcott waved slowly, a frown firmly in place on his visage. “Something up?”

“Hey, maybe you can help us out,” Prompto replied, getting up so he could walk over to Gladio, the man’s mini replica and snapped arm in hand. “Check it out.”

Gladio laughed. “What the---”

“We’ve been immortalized. In plastic form. I’ll tell you aaaaall about it in a sec, but any idea on how to fix something like this?” Prompto asked. “Help us Gladio, you’re our only hope!”

“I happen to be an expert, actually. I used to fix Iris’ toys all the time when we were younger,” Gladio chuckled, taking the toy from Prompto. “Leave it to me.”

And that was how Prompto spent the rest of the afternoon playing aliens with Talcott and newcomer Gladio. Gladio couldn’t repair the figure the way he wanted due to lack of proper supplies, but it turns out a band-aid was a quick fix when it came to dire circumstances. By the time they finished playing, the box of band-aids was nearly empty.


	27. Future

For as long as Prompto could remember, Ignis had always told him that in the future, when they get married and buy their first house together, he wanted to get a cat. It couldn’t be just any cat, though; he was adamant that it had to be a long haired orange and white cat. Prompto had asked him about it, curious about why he was so set on that kind of cat in particular.

“I can’t say,” Ignis had replied. “As a child, I’d always imagined that when I grew up, I’d be in my home on a cold winter’s evening, sitting by the fireplace with an orange and white cat sleeping on my lap while I enjoyed a cup of tea.”

“But... why orange and white? Why not black? Or… all stripey? Or, hey, go one step further and add black to the mix, make it a calico cat. I’ve always liked calicos,” Prompto said, smiling at the thought. Ignis liked cats, huh?

“It  _ has _ to be orange and white, Prompto,” Ignis insisted sternly. 

Well, all right then. So it had to be orange and white. Prompto never forgot. But, first thing’s first. They had to get to that point, fast forward some years, accomplish a few things before said orange and white cat could become a thing.

So, step one. Get married.

The wedding was awesome. Their first dance together was everything Prompto had ever dreamed of. Ignis was smooth on his feet, and even with the loss of his vision, his steps were precise and neither of them faltered (not even Prompto, who was sure that he would be the one to fall flat on his face at some point). Noctis got really, really drunk at the party and kept trying to water the outdoor plants with spiked fruit punch while Luna watched, laughing at him. Gladio line danced to awful country music with Cor until 4AM. Prompto wasn’t even sure if they were drunk.

The honeymoon was a surprise. No, really, it was. Prompto had no idea what Ignis had planned. He thought they were off on some sort of expensive vacation to Galdin Quay or something, but instead, Ignis had given him directions to a place seemingly in the middle of nowhere. And finally, when he pulled up to a small house by the woods, he was confused. Ignis announced that they had reached their destination.

“Uhhh, what? Ignis, you do know that this is eerily similar to the beginning of a horror movie, right?” Prompto said, a nervous laugh escaping him as he gripped the steering wheel just a little too hard. Had he accidentally married an axe murderer?

“Welcome home, Prompto,” was Ignis’ reply.

Well, he wasn’t an axe murderer, and it looked like step two, ‘Obtain a House as a Married Couple’, was already complete and Prompto didn’t even have to do anything.

Now, all that was left was that orange and white cat.

A few months after they’d settled into their new house, Prompto decided to take Ignis to that new cat cafe that had opened up back in town. Have some coffee, pet some cats, maybe adopt one of them. Sounded great, right?

Little did he know that they would soon step inside Ignis Heaven.

After they bought their drinks and some biscuits to share, Prompto led Ignis over to one of the nearby couches so they could sit and relax.

“Where are the cats?” Ignis asked curiously.

“Don’t worry, babe. There’s cats. They’re around. They’ll wander over eventually, I’m sure,” Prompto replied. He glanced around the room, noting the various cats lounging around on their designated cat trees, cat cubes, cat blankets and other assorted cat furniture. They seemed a lot more interested in sleeping than socializing, but maybe they’d just come at a bad time.

Within minutes, though, it was like the cats all woke up simultaneously with a common goal in mind: swarm Ignis. 

Ignis felt a nudge against his leg as one passed by, rubbing against him. The smile that grew on his face right away made Prompto melt. “Ah. There we are,” Ignis mused pleasantly.

“Dude, did you spray catnip cologne all over yourself or something? They’re  _ everywhere, _ ” Prompto laughed. About three of them hopped up behind them along the couch cushion ledge, while about five circled around their feet and under the coffee table.

“You’ve discovered my secret, Prompto. In my old age, I now secrete catnip instead of sweat.”

“Eww.”

“Are any of them orange and white?” Ignis asked as Prompto shoved one of the complimentary cat teaser wands into his hand. 

Prompto winced. No. No, none of them were orange and white. Should he lie? No, he could never lie to Ignis. Especially about something as important as that. “No, not that I can see. But I’m sure an orange and white one will show up soon!”

“Ah,” was all Ignis replied with. He carefully set his mug down on the table in front of him so he could focus his efforts on playing with the cats. The cats went  _ nuts _ . They pounced at the fish-shaped toy on the end of the wire, and soon two of them became more interested in Ignis’ shoelaces instead.

When Prompto took over play duty so Ignis could finish his tea, one cat hopped up on the couch beside Ignis, sniffing his hand curiously. Ignis felt the light tickle of whiskers against his bare wrist and he paused.

“Dude, stay still,” Prompto said with a grin. 

And he did. The cat, after checking to make sure Ignis was a suitable human, delicately stepped onto Ignis’ lap and laid down.

Ignis sat up straight. “Prompto---” he began.

“Heeeey, you got a fan.” Prompto was entertained by the whole event. “Go on, pet them. What are you waiting for? You’re acting like you’ve never been around a cat before.”

Ignis shifted, clearing his throat. “I haven’t,” he admitted.   


Prompto smiled. “No sweat. I happen to be an expert, though my forte is usually dogs,” he said softly as he took Ignis’ free hand in his own. He gently placed it against the cat and guided it along the cat’s softly furred back, from neck to tail. He let go to allow Ignis to take the reigns afterward. “There ya go. Easy, right? Cats like being pet in a downward stroke like that. They also love it when you lightly rub the sides of their face.”

“Like this?” Ignis asked. His hand hovered beside the cat’s face, unsure of where it was, but the cat took the initiative for him as it nuzzled Ignis’ hand and began to purr. 

“Yeah! Just like that.” Prompto couldn’t help but pull out his cellphone and snap a few photos.

The more Ignis pet the cat, the louder it began to purr. Soon, its paws were slowly kneading against his legs, claws lightly popping against the fabric.

“What is it doing?” Ignis asked.

“Kneading. When cats do that, it means they’re  _ really _ happy. I think you’ve got this kitty wrapped around your finger. Or maybe it’s the other way around?” Prompto smirked. 

“Is it orange and white?” Ignis asked again. He was smiling, but the crease in his brow told Prompto that he was busy contemplating.

The cat, unfortunately, wasn’t. It was pure white, fur long and as soft as sheep’s wool. Prompto felt his heart ache a little. Was Ignis really going to reject them because they didn’t fit in with his perfect future cat vision?

“No. They’re white. Oh, hey, it looks like they’ve got a name, too.” Prompto reached over so he could peek at the tag hanging from the cat’s collar. “Mabel.”

“Mabel,” Ignis repeated. He held his hand up beside Mabel’s face while Mabel rubbed their cheek against it vigorously, the volume of their purr increasing steadily.

Well, the cat wasn’t orange and white, but they were halfway there. After a two hour stay at the cafe, however, Ignis decided that it didn’t matter, and Prompto and Ignis submitted their adoption application before they left that day.

A week or so later, Ignis discovered that Mabel loved homemade cat food, fresh from his kitchen. And when winter came, Mabel’s favourite place was the same place where they’d bonded when they first met: Ignis’ lap.


	28. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I'm still going to finish these! This one is a sequel to the last prompt, Future.

Mabel was, without a doubt, Ignis’ cat.

Despite Prompto’s best efforts, Mabel hardly gave him the time of day. He’d tried tempting her with salmon-flavoured treats that she’d just turn her nose up at. He’d tried playing with her using her favourite toy (a plush mouse with a bell sewn to the end of its tail, that Ignis had picked out specifically), and she would just walk right by him. Heck, he’d even bought her the nicest, coziest cat bed  _ ever _ , and instead, Mabel ignored it in favour of curling up in Ignis’ slippers. No matter what he did, he just couldn’t quite form a bond with her, even if she wasn’t necessarily being mean to him. And not only that… she took up an awful lot of Ignis’ spare time.

It wasn’t like he was jealous or anything, though. Really. He wasn’t. Or so he tried to believe.

“You’re just not petting her right,” Ignis offered as an explanation one night after Prompto complained. The pair sat beside one another on the couch in front of the TV, a gap between them as Mabel’s lower end sat on the cushion, her upper draped across Ignis’ lap lazily.

“Uh, but how? I was the one who taught you how to pet her in the first place,” Prompto objected.

Ignis just shrugged as the cat purred up a storm in his lap, his fingers lost among the white fluff while he pet her softly.

The whole ordeal was a little... distressing to Prompto. He’d always been so good with animals, whether it was cats, dogs, or chocobos, and yet he just couldn’t win over this white ball of fluff. But why? He stared daggers into the back of Mabel’s head, her tail swishing slowly near his leg, as if she were taunting him.  _ ‘Haha, Ignis is aaaall mine.’ _ Yep. That was definitely what she was saying to him right now.

He wasn’t about to lose to a cat… no matter how soft and cute she was.

“I mean. I guess you can’t always win them all,” Prompto murmured. He watched as Ignis doted on the cat, who looked pleased as punch to be absorbing all of Ignis’ affection.

Ah, right. That was another thing. It was hard to cuddle Ignis on the couch now that Mabel was here. She always seemed to take precedence. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a proper cuddle; either they’d get interrupted by a purry white fluffball, or said purry white fluffball would render Ignis immobile, not wanting to disturb her sleep by moving around at all.

“Hey… maybe you could show her that the bed I bought her is pretty good. And it totally is. It’s got the thickest cushion in it. The guy at the store told me that all of his cats go nuts for it, never leave the thing. That way, she wouldn’t always have to be up on the couch in the evening, y’know?” Prompto suggested, hoping that it wasn’t  _ too  _ blatantly obvious what he was implying. Even if it was.

“I don’t see a reason why she should have to leave,” Ignis replied simply. “She was here first, was she not?”

“No! It’s not like that at all. She doesn’t have to leave!” Prompto waved his hands around frantically. “I wouldn’t dream of kicking her off the couch! It’s just that… it’s… a little hard to, uh… get close, when she’s around all the time… y’know? Like, it’s always good to offer a cat more options, right? The world is her playground! And the possibilities for comfy places to sleep are endless! Right? Like, cats love boxes and stuff but she just, doesn’t seem to care for them for some reason? It’s like she’s glued to your lap all the time and never anywhere else, even in our  _ bed _ , and----”

When Ignis didn’t interject right away, Prompto held his tongue, swearing he could hear crickets chirp in the silence that passed next.

“Prompto,” Ignis began after the brief interlude, “are you implying that you are jealous of my cat?”

“No,” Prompto replied quickly.

When Ignis raised an eyebrow in his general direction, Prompto paused, nibbling on his lip.

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted.

Ignis smiled. “Who would have thought that my little companion would end up causing you so much distress.”

“I’m not distressed.”

“Perhaps jealousy is the correct word to use after all.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“I see. I do apologize, regardless of whichever emotion you are trying to portray.”

“I just…” Prompto’s shoulders sank, feeling silly all of a sudden. “I dunno. I guess I just feel bad that she doesn’t seem to like me as much as she likes you.”

Ignis considered Prompto’s words for a moment, his hand moving to his chin while he pondered. “She likes you just fine, Prompto. But perhaps if you talked the talk, she would be more inclined to show interest in you.”

Prompto’s nose crinkled. “What?”

“When you speak to her, you don’t use the right tone.”

“And what tone is that supposed to be?”

“Must I give you a demonstration? Surely you’ve heard how I speak to her on a daily basis.”

“Well, yeah, but---”

Ignis let out a sigh. “Very well.”

Ignis turned his head downward, his voice projecting directly to the cat on his lap. “Mabel, darling,” he cooed, in that sickeningly-sweet, higher tone that Prompto absolutely did know quite well at this point, “Who is the most beautiful cat in all of Eos?”

Mabel’s purr turned louder as she rubbed her face against his hand, a happy chirp following.

“Prompto, tell her she’s beautiful,” Ignis mused.

“But I do! Like, all the time!” 

“Ah, but not quite like  _ that _ . Am I wrong?”

Prompto scoffed. “But I have my  _ own _ ‘talking to animals’ voice already.”

“Indeed, however, it’s not a ‘talking to Mabel’ voice.”

Prompto groaned. “I can’t believe this.”

“Go on, then,” Ignis urged.

With a harsh sigh, Prompto turned towards Mabel. “Mabel,” he began, matching Ignis’ tone in every way possible but accent, “You’re so beautiful! Yes you are! Never been a fluffier cat, ever, in the whole universe. You also don’t smell bad! Well, cats don’t smell  _ anyway _ , but…”

“Prompto,” Ignis interrupted.

Prompto rolled his eyes. “Maaaaaabel,” he almost sang, “You’re so pretty. You’re so beauuuutiful.”

Mabel’s ears twitched. She raised her head and glanced over her shoulder at Prompto, her eyes half-lidded.

Prompto continued spouting off silly yet sweet-sounding words of praise. At first it looked like she wasn’t having any of it, but eventually, to his surprise, she slowly sat up and turned around, then stepped delicately onto his own lap.

“Where is she going?” Ignis asked, feeling her weight leave his legs.

“Dude, she’s  _ so _ leaving you for me,” Prompto whispered, perhaps a bit too gleefully as Mabel stood on his lap, experimentally kneading his pants with her little paws. Deeming it a suitable place to sleep as well, she then turned and curled up in a ball on Prompto’s lap, her purr rumbling in her throat as she got comfortable.

“Wonderful,” Ignis replied, smiling as he leaned his head against the couch cushion.

Turns out, the secret to capturing Mabel’s heart wasn’t an expensive cat bed, but rather ‘the talk’, just as Ignis had said. And it wasn’t just Ignis’ heart that Mabel captured, either - Ignis’ heart came as a packaged deal, just as Mabel discovered that a place to sleep could be extended to two people’s laps instead of just one.


	29. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Breotch08 for the idea for this prompt. :D

Insomnia.

It was Prompto’s home, ever since he was little. He knew it like the back of his hand; he’d walked around downtown on his own, to and from school, practically every day. He’d wandered around with Noctis back in highschool, when they were bored teens with nothing better to do than be mall zombies for hours before dragging themselves over to the arcade for some games. To the movie theatre. To a fast food joint. To the park. Everywhere.

He knew it all. That was why, when Ignis proposed that they go on a date together, he insisted that he’d find the _best_ place for them to go and have lunch at; _and_ , it would be at a place Ignis had never been to before. Easy-peasy, right?

“Okay, so, the cafe’s gotta be just around this corner,” Prompto said cheerfully, holding Ignis’ hand as the other strode alongside him. “Man, I can’t wait. The menu looked really good. They’ve got this housemade burger that looks _massive_. And not to mention delicious. Like, dripping with goodness. And condiments.”

“I see,” Ignis replied. “And the soups? Do you recall if they had a wide selection?”

“Dude, there’s soups for _days_. Even some stuff I couldn’t pronounce. You’re gonna love it. Or... so I hope. The reviews were good, at least?”

“Reviews aren’t everything, Prompto.”

“Yeah, sure, but they exist for a reason. There was only one negative! And it was because someone decided to come in during rush hour and got mad that there weren’t any seats for them. I mean, come on! If you come to a popular cafe at noon, of _course_ there’s not gonna be anywhere to sit. It’s popular for a reason! You knew what you were getting into!”

Ignis just smiled, enjoying the sound of Prompto’s voice. His companion seemed to be rather spunky today; he was entertaining to watch, his voice increasing in volume and hands all flail-y the more excited he got. “So, going by that knowledge, you’re saying that there won’t be any seats for us when we get there?” Ignis asked curiously.

Prompto paused, then reached into his pocket for his phone so he could check the time. “But it’s not noon yet! I think,” he retorted, then stopped in his tracks. Letting go of Ignis’ hand, he began to pat at his hips with both hands, slow then fast, before he patted his backside. He then glanced around himself in a full circle, lifting both feet up and down as if he had stepped in a sticky blob of chewing gum.

“Is something wrong?” Ignis asked, watching the other’s strange display in front of him.

“Uhhh, I… I think I lost my phone,” Prompto mumbled. Giving his hips one more slap for good measure, he wailed, “Crap. Dammit. Crap!”

“Ah, I see. For a moment there, I thought you were merely calling for rain,” Ignis remarked.

Prompto stopped what he was doing so he could look up at Ignis, eyebrows quirked in confusion.. “....what?”

“You know, dancing about like you were performing some kind of ritual. A rain dance, of sorts,” Ignis replied casually. “I do know that there has been a dry spell in Insomnia as of late, but I would have thought a rain dance would be better suited as a last resort after a months-long drought.”

Prompto just stared deadpan at the taller man before he started to laugh. “Uh, okay dude. Whatever you say. But if it’s a rain dance you want, then a rain dance is what you're gonna get.”

Before Ignis could protest, Prompto grabbed both of his gloved hands, pulling him around the street corner. He began to animate both their arms, hands securely held hostage, jigging to a silent song as he grinned wide.

“Prompto---” Ignis began in protest, but his words were interrupted by the sound of his own laughter as Prompto spun him around like a swing dancer. “Prompto, there’s not a cloud in the sky, but there very well may be soon if we keep this up. You neglected to bring your umbrella; we’re unprepared for the occasion.”

“Umbrella? Who wants to carry one around, anyway? That bad boy’s right where I left it, home, by the front door.” As much as Prompto wanted to continue dancing to the music that was Ignis’ laughter, he stopped dancing, lest he embarrass his poor partner in public further. But the moment the words left his mouth, his train of thought shifted tracks. “Wait. Wait! Oh!” he exclaimed, a revelation in progress.

“What is it?” Ignis asked, a small smile residing on his face. One of adoration that he presented specifically for Prompto, and often.

“I… didn’t actually lose my phone. I left it on the sideboard while I was putting my boots on. It’s at home. Near the umbrella. Dammit.” Prompto made a disappointed noise, releasing his hold on Ignis’ hands.

“Well, that’s better than it being lost, isn't it? It's safe and sound,” Ignis added cheerfully.

“True.” Prompto smiled again, relief washing over him. He took Ignis’ hand in his own once more so they could continue on. “Well, crisis averted for the time being, so let’s go get some grub, yeah?”

While they walked, they kept a close eye on their surroundings for the cafe that Prompto had picked out. Unfortunately, despite the directions Prompto had looked up prior, the cafe was not around the corner like he’d thought - it didn’t appear to be on this street at all. With his phone absent, Prompto couldn’t even double check the address. Ignis offered to look it up on his own phone, but Prompto refused.

“Nope. I said I was gonna handle this date,” Prompto insisted. “This is all on me. So I’m gonna find it, directions or not, one way or another.”

“Ah. Then it’s a good thing we have all the time in the world, isn’t it?” Ignis jabbed dryly.

Prompto side-eyed him. “Are you implying that it’s gonna take me forever to find it? You wanna take bets? Oh, it’s on.” He pulled Ignis along, heading north up the street, on a mission to prove him wrong.

...

In the end, it took them forty-five minutes to find the cafe. Longer than Prompto had wanted, but hey, he'd kept true to his word. He found it. Eventually.

The food was just as incredible as Prompto had hoped, though. Ignis seemed to be having a good time, too, and the man looked pleased with his meal choice (and the coffee that accompanied it). They chatted about random things. Ignis laughed a lot. There may or may not have been a little game of footsie going on beneath the table. All in all, the date was a success, and Prompto couldn’t have been more pleased with how it had went, despite the rocky start

When it came time for them to finish up and pay, however, Prompto quickly discovered that along with his phone, he had also left his wallet home. He had no idea how he managed that, but he knew that it was probably sitting on his bed, taunting him from afar, laughing at his misfortunes. Ignis had no problem covering the tab, but it kind of defeated the whole purpose of Prompto’s date plans. He hadn't wanted Ignis to lift a finger. Dammit.

While Prompto pouted, listening to Ignis speak with the waiter who brought over their bill, there was something peculiar about their conversation. The waiter… called Ignis by name. Wait. What? But how? Prompto sat up straight in his seat as he listened to their little chat intently. As the mystery unfolded, it soon became clear: not only did Ignis know the cafe, but Ignis was a regular, and had been for years.

Prompto stared daggers at the back of his partner’s head for the duration of their exit.

“If you knew where the place was, and had been there before, then why the heck didn’t you say something sooner?!” Prompto wailed. “We could have gone somewhere else!”

“I was curious to see what a Prompto Argentum Hosted Date Experience was like, from start to finish,” Ignis replied simply.

Prompto blew air. “Well, sorry to let you down. Didn’t exactly go very smoothly. Heck, I didn’t even get to treat you to lunch, which was the goal from the very beginning. Like, in the planning stages.”

“Didn’t go smoothly? Quite the opposite, actually,” Ignis said warmly. “Prompto, everything was wonderful. You’ll be happy to know that I enjoyed every second of our date today.”

“Even while we wandered around Insomnia like lost dogs looking for scraps for like, an hour?” Prompto grumbled.

“Especially.”

“But still. Why didn’t you tell me that this place was your favourite? I was all excited for you to try something new for once! And we would have gotten there a heck of a lot sooner, to boot.”

“On the contrary, I was impressed that you picked it out of all the places in Insomnia that we could have gone. You assessed the menu, correctly predicted that it was to my ‘refined’ tastes, and went for it. You know me better than you think, Prompto. ”

Prompto’s deflated posture seemed to gain some air again when he heard that. “Heh… well.. I guess you’re right. But I still wanted it to be a surprise. The suspense and mystery of trying a new restaurant and stuff and all, y’know.”

“Think nothing of it, darling. We both enjoyed it, and each other’s company, and that’s all that matters.” Ignis slid his hand back into Prompto’s, holding it gently.

“You just enjoyed watching me fuss over you.”

“I won’t deny that that was a large percentage, yes.”

“Sometimes, you are just the _worst_.”

“I love you too, Prompto.”


	30. Found

Ever since they’d first started dating, Prompto left little handwritten notes everywhere for Gladiolus. He’d made a game out of it; sometimes they’d be out in the open for him to find with little difficulty, but most of the time they’d be tucked away, hidden in the most random of places. He kept a tally on how many Gladiolus would find in the end, and how long it would take him to do so.

The notes’ contents varied. While some were lovey-dovey (plenty of “I love you”s), the majority were written with the intention of making the large man laugh. The messages alternated between being downright nonsensical (“Ever seen a pink Garulessa?”) or borderline insulting if they weren’t so ridiculous (“Are those your eyebrows or did someone glue caterpillars to your face?”).

Every day when Gladiolus woke in the morning, he’d wonder where he’d find one of Prompto’s little love notes next. Would it be in his clothing bag? Taped to the bottom of his dinner plate? Tucked into one of his books? Or would he wake up to find it stuck in his hair, taped to the wispy strands that hung at the back of his neck? Every day was a surprise, and Gladiolus looked forward to it. They were a little glimmer of sunshine when he needed it the most, especially when life took its first steps down a darker path, eventually leading to an inevitable event.

The day Noctis disappeared into the crystal, they’d all lost their best friend, the glue holding their small group together. The stress and dread of what was to come, of the unknown, was too much for them to bear. The air was tense. Hearts were fragile. Writing love notes didn’t even cross Prompto’s mind anymore; all that remained were thoughts of Noctis, of how badly he missed him, how badly he wanted to see him again. Gladiolus was no better, and Ignis didn’t speak to either of them much from that day onward, lost in his own endless sea of thoughts.

As a result, Gladiolus and Prompto didn’t make it. After everything they’d been through together, they ended up walking different paths, going their separate ways - searching for something that neither of them were sure even existed. They needed time apart, time to find themselves.

Prompto didn’t have any love notes left in his system at that point... that is, except for one. After they’d said their goodbyes, Prompto decided to leave Gladiolus one final note, one  _ really _ good one that he had been saving for a special occasion. When he had a moment alone, he tucked it inside one of Gladiolus’ belongings, someplace he knew the man had a chance of stumbling upon it one day. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Prompto left that up to chance, to fate.

Ten years later, a miracle took place - their best friend returned to them. Though it was only temporary, it was what they had all needed for their hearts to heal at last.  They rebuilt their bond, administered medicine, sought comfort in the form of smiles, laughter, and tears. And when it came time, they said their final goodbyes with the break of the new dawn. They were able to provide a proper send-off, to show their gratitude for their dear friend. Noctis brought the light back to Eos, and with it, hope. Joy. 

Love.

Gladiolus never let go of Prompto from that day forward.

….

Gladiolus slumped down against the couch one afternoon, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail as he brought his legs up onto the furniture lazily. A stiff drink in one hand and a book in the other, he felt he’d earned the right to relax for awhile. After all, hefting and carrying and unpacking boxes all morning was a surefire way to exhaust someone, even someone as fit as Gladiolus.

He leaned back against the cushion, a yawn escaping him as he held up the book. He smiled fondly as his eyes passed over the embossed words written across the dust jacket.  _ Hearts on Fira _ . He thought he’d lost this book ages ago, but lady luck had smiled upon him that morning; it had been tucked away inside one of his old bags, hidden in one of the zippered side pockets. Honestly, he was pretty stoked. One of his favourite guilty pleasures to pass the time had been reading in the back seat of the Regalia. Damn, how long had it been since he’d last done that, now? Twelve years? Wow. Time sure flew.

Gladiolus flipped through the pages with care. Though the paper had begun to yellow from age, the glue securing them to the binding appeared to be holding up. He’d read this book more times than he’d like to admit. What page was it, when Sylvia finally confessed her love to Antonio? Right, that must have been around... page two hundred and twenty, maybe.

When he parted the book to read that sweet sweet confession scene again, something fluttered out from within.

Curious, Gladiolus set the book aside, picking up the mystery object that had fallen onto his lap. At first he thought that maybe one of the pages had fallen out after all, but the colour didn’t match, nor did the size. It was smaller, folded, and had one jagged edge, like it had been a former corner torn from an unrelated paper source.

Unfolding it, he felt his heart stop in his chest.

Scribbled hastily on the inside with black ink was a short message. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have made a lick of sense, but Gladiolus knew better. He knew this writing, right down to the pen that it had been scribbled with (it had been his, once upon a time - the ink stream cut out here and there). The messy, faded writing could only belong to one person in the world, the one person he loved more than anyone and anything else.

“You smell like a behemoth’s ass.”

That was it. That was the mystery message. Gladiolus read those words over and over, twenty times at  _ least, _ before a laugh began to rumble low in his chest. It didn’t take long for it to give way to a joyous burst, his shoulders shaking, the book he’d been holding moments prior falling to the floor with a loud  _ thump _ . In that moment, all the stress, all the anger, all the sorrow that he’d held onto for so long seemed to disappear. It served as a reminder of their precious friends’ sacrifice, the gift he had left them with. It wasn’t just Eos’ light; it was the joy of life itself. 

And most of all, Noctis had given Gladiolus the greatest gift of all: meeting Prompto Argentum for the first time, all those years ago.

After a short while, Gladiolus’ laughter finally waned, tears streaming down his face in its place. Gods, he’d needed that. He stared down at the piece of paper again, at the silliness scratched on its surface. ‘A behemoth’s ass’. What an absurd thing to write, let alone come up with in the first place. This book… this message… it was like Prompto had somehow planned it, placed it strategically, like a time capsule. It had come to him when he’d needed it the most. In a way, it was like he’d just received a bottled up kiss from a twenty-year old Prompto.

Tucking the note into his pocket, Gladiolus got to his feet. He left the room, on a mission to find the sender so he could return the favour.

He found him instantly.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a large textbook open in front of him, the now thirty-two year old Prompto studied for his photography course. His nose was scrunched in concentration, a pair of glasses perched crookedly on the tip of his nose, having slid down from the tilt of his head. He looked tired; bags under his eyes and a lazy posture, but one couldn’t blame him. After all, moving house in the middle of having to study for final exams would take a lot out of anyone, even someone as energetic and brilliant as Prompto.

Without warning, Gladiolus stepped up behind Prompto, leaning down to place a kiss atop soft blond strands. Quickly moving to his side, he then scooped the blond up in his large arms, a cry of surprise squeaking out from his partner’s mouth. Before Prompto could protest further, Gladiolus silenced him with a kiss, one that just barely made contact thanks to the parting of the large grin he had on his face.

“You smell too,” Gladiolus murmured, another laugh bubbling past his lips as he gave his beloved another kiss. Prompto didn’t learn what that was all about until about an hour or so later, but he didn’t mind so much. When Gladiolus balled the note up and tossed it at him playfully somewhere along the way, Prompto scrambled to catch it, read it, and immediately proceeded to laugh so hard his sides hurt.

His love note had found its recipient at last, just as he’d hoped it would. Everything had worked out in the end - leaving it up to fate hadn’t been foolish, after all.

Prompto cherished every new day they spent together. Every moment was filled with happiness... spontaneity... love. And he knew precisely who he had to thank for this life, and he made sure to do so every single day.

_ Thank you, Noctis. _


	31. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! At last, it's done! Thanks everyone for reading and for your lovely comments, and apologies that it took this long to finish! <3

Poorly styled wig ordered off the internet, only to discover that it was the wrong colour after arrival? Check.

Shirt, conveniently swiped from best friend when he wasn’t looking? Check.

Look-alike pants, pinned up with safety pins because the legs were too long for him? Check.

Mismatched boots that didn’t quite fit his feet and would probably cause blisters after ten minutes of use? Check.

Plastic sword that belonged to a pirate costume, once upon a time, complete with skull and crossbones decals? Check.

Prompto grinned as he did a turn in front of his bedroom’s full body mirror, double checking his Halloween costume before he was to leave for the big party that was going on tonight. He’d mulled over what to dress up as for weeks, not wanting to pick something predictable like everyone else (Vampire? Yawn. Zombie? Cool, but yawn). He wanted something unique. Funny. Silly. So when he came up with this particular idea, he knew he had to do it, bursting out laughing every time he thought about it. He knew that it was The One. The One Costume To Rule Them All. Was it tongue in cheek? Yes. Would his best friend kick his ass for it? Probably. But oh, was it ever going to be worth it, even if he would have a shoe-shaped imprint on his ass for the rest of his life as a result.

With one final look over, Prompto grabbed his house keys and phone, stuffing them into the pants that were a touch too big for his waist before he took his leave. He double checked the party’s address, hastily written down on a shred of napkin. Gladiolus was hosting the Halloween party this year, and he’d managed to score some run-down mansion to rent for the occasion. Honestly? It was probably going to be awesome. He may or may not dance (poorly). He may or may not get drunk (he will). He will, absolutely, have a good time with his friends and also eat way too much candy in the process, probably.

As he rang the doorbell, he could practically taste the junk food already. He heard the bass of the stereo pumping against the walls, drowning out the sound of happy party-goer voices chattering in the background. It sounded like a full house. He slapped the flicker of nerves that bit him like an annoying mosquito at the prospect of socializing with new people, then told himself: it was okay. Noctis and the others were here. It was going to be just fine.

Then, the door opened, and before he could even think of a witty thing to say in greeting, his voice caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. On the other side of the door stood someone familiar, someone he knew better than anyone else in the whole world:

Prompto Argentum.

….

…

..

.

Wait, what?

No, he wasn’t looking at himself in a mirror (which wouldn’t make any sense anyway - he didn’t look like himself right now, and why would a mirror be answering the door?!) but rather, there was a stranger masquerading as him. However, it wasn’t a stranger. It took him a second, and upon closer inspection, he confirmed the imposter’s true identity. The wearer of the terrible costume was none other than---

“Noct, what the hell?!” Prompto exclaimed.

Noctis. His best friend.

Dressed from head to toe in a poor imitation of his appearance, Noctis donned a Prompto costume, right down to a poorly styled blond wig of his own. There were even freckles - bad ones, drawn with washable marker; three comically large polka dots on each of his cheeks. The wig was bright yellow, strands of hair squished into gelled chunks in an attempt to style it. To top off the whole ensemble, two water guns poked out from his pants pockets... and speaking of his pants, they were bright orange with leopard spots painted onto them. Just... terrible. Prompto wasn’t that tacky, was he?!

“I could ask you the same thing!” Noctis shot back.

Well… he had a point.

Prompto’s genius costume idea? Dress up as the royal fancypants himself, Noctis Lucis Caelum. Prompto had to hand it to himself, though, because even if his costume wasn’t perfect, it was a heck of a lot better than Noctis’ attempt at imitating him. At least he had an accurate shirt (authentic, as it turns out). And the wig didn’t turn up bright blue.  (Sort of.)

“You ruined my costume!” Prompto complained. “I was supposed to have the most original costume here!”

“What? If anything,  _ you _ ruined  _ mine _ !” Noctis shot back.

“I did not!”

“How was I supposed to know that you were going to steal my idea?”

“Dude, I didn’t steal anything. You must have found out, somehow.”

“That’s kind of impossible, man.” Noctis then paused, taking a step forward so he could inspect Prompto’s strangely accurate skull explosion shirt. “Hey, speaking of stealing? I was wondering where my shirt went.”

“I didn’t steal it!” Prompto retorted. “I just... borrowed. Without permission. I was gonna give it back.”

“Right.”

“Gotta go the extra mile for accuracy, y’know? Oh, and by the way, Noct? Your outfit’s terrible. Couldn’t even get my vest right.”

“Hey, I tried, okay?” Noctis quipped in defense. “Your vest is actually really complicated. Too many details! Lots of patches. And one of them has a swear word on it, so---”

Prompto scoffed. “What, are you some kind of saint now?” he laughed. “I know you curse like a sailor, dude. But, if you wanna pretend you’re innocent and completely G-rated, then be my guest.” Prompto pushed past Noctis, finally entering the building. He pivoted on his heels, waving the sword around in the air mockingly as he put on his best Noctis voice. “Look at me, I’m Noct. I’m all princely and stuff, ooooh, and I’ve got a sword. Like a pirate. And I hate beans and probably fruit too, gonna get a reeeeeal bad case of scurvy.” 

Noctis tried to keep a straight face, wanting to salvage his dignity, but he couldn’t stop the smile that grew at the ridiculous show his best friend was putting on for him.

“Hey, check me out, I’m Prompto!” Noctis shot back, pulling the water guns out from his pockets, giving them a little twirl. “I’m…” He made a face, hesitating before he concluded, “...blond.”

Silence.

Prompto laughed. “ _ Really _ ?  _ That’s _ all the dirt you’ve got on me?”

Noctis shrugged. “I guess.”

“Thanks for letting me off easy, but I’m still gonna kick your ass for ruining my costume.” Prompto gave his friend a shove as the two of them stepped further inside the hallway, entering the main area of the house. Party guests everywhere, they were far too busy to care about Prompto and Noctis’ awful costumes. Halloween decorations hung from the ceiling and were taped to the walls, partially lifting thanks to being adhered by cheap dollar store tape.

“I told you, I didn’t ruin anything!” Noctis nearly tripped over his own feet as he was shoved along, stumbling into someone far larger than his friend as a result.

Gladiolus.

Dressed as... 

“Santa? Really?” Prompto gaped, puzzled. “That’s not very Halloween-y, dude. Kinda lazy, if I’m being honest.”

“What? It’s from Nightmare Before Christmas,” Gladiolus murmured, rubbing at the luxurious mound of soft, flowing white hair attached to his chin via elastic. “So technically, it’s relevant.”

“Isn’t that a Christmas movie?” Noctis asked skeptically.

“Actually, it’s a Halloween movie,” Prompto chimed in. “The director confirmed it not that long ago.”

“So you’re saying that your complaints about my costume are invalid now. Cool,” Gladiolus mumbled, smirking. “But whatever. It’s a Christmas movie to me. I just thought it would be funny. The hell is the deal with you guys?”

“Clever, right?” Prompto grinned, throwing his arm around Noctis’ shoulders. “Can ya tell the difference?”

Gladiolus looked between the pair. “I see two identical idiots, so no.”

“Hilarious,” Noctis muttered, shoving Prompto’s arm away. “Hey, where’s Ignis?”

“He said he was going to be late,” replied Gladiolus.

“Ignis? Late? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Oooh, I wonder if this means he’s gonna show up in a totally  _ rad _ costume.” Prompto rubbed his hands together. “Like, one he’s been putting together for weeks. Months, even! Some kind of intricate costume that’s totally gonna blow us all away. Something, dare I say… funny.”

“Doubt it. This is Ignis,” Gladiolus griped.

“Hey, give the guy some more credit,” added Noctis. “He’s a stickler for details. And he can be pretty funny when he wants to be.”

“Funny, yeah, but unlike you guys, he likes to keep some shred of dignity.” Gladiolus crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk.

“Says the guy in a Santa costume on Halloween,” Noctis mused.

“Hey, Santa is beloved to everyone worldwide.”

“And he also terrifies children at malls.”

“So you’re saying it’s a perfect costume for Halloween, then.”

“Touché.”

Just then, the missing member of their entourage approached them, the man of the hour, the one and only: 

“Hey Ignis!” Prompto exclaimed, waving, the pirate sword still in hand. “Hark! My royal advisor! He’s here at last! C’mon, hurry, advise me!”

Ignis, taken aback by Prompto’s odd choice of costume, was about to speak when he was cut short by Gladiolus. 

“Where’s your costume?” Gladiolus asked, brows knitted in confusion.

Ignis looked just as confused. “I’m wearing it,” he replied coolly.

Ignis stood in front of three pairs of prying, dissecting eyes, glasses-less, a pair of meticulously ironed slacks on his lower half, a suit jacket over a tweed sweatervest and a tie on his upper. He looked a little less casual than normal, but still very much in everyday wear. For Ignis, at least.

“Uh, no you’re not?” Prompto stared at him, wheels turning in his head as he tried to decipher the alleged costume. “Who are you supposed to be? Other than Ignis Scientia.”

“I’m Sherlock Holmes,” Ignis replied matter-of-factly. He shifted his weight onto his other foot. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“But you look the same.”

“Even with the addition of the monocle?”

“What monocle? Your face is naked.”

“Ah, I forgot the most important part.” Ignis slid his hand into his jacket pocket, producing a monocle. He held it out for the others to note before he propped it on his face. He turned his head slightly, striking a formal pose. “Do you see the resemblance now?”

Gladiolus, Noctis and Prompto continued to stare, making their deduction before they collectively shrugged.

“Hmm.. sorry Iggy, you still look the same to me,” Gladiolus offered.

“Nope. Now you’re just Ignis with broken glasses,” Prompto added.

Ignis’ eyes fell on Noctis desperately, only to get a haphazard shrug in response.

As they all stood there awkwardly, dressed in their failed selection of Halloween costumes, Ignis was the first to break the silence. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he announced, “I feel like a drink is necessary.”

“You read my mind,” Noctis grumbled. 

Giving each other a pat on the back in condolences, they headed over to the living room together, where the rest of the partygoers were gathered. Drinks and snacks galore, it didn’t take long for them to get lost in the atmosphere, enjoying each other’s company. Many hours later, no one seemed to care about their costume choices anymore, too busy feeling the effects of the party. It had started to get late, and everyone migrated to a corner of the living room to relax, sprawled out over various pieces of furniture.

“Hey, I see it now!” Prompto slurred, slapping his hand on Ignis’ shoulder. He may have had one too many drinks, still nursing half a bottle as he spoke. “Elementary, my dear Watson!”

“I’m not Watson,” Ignis mumbled back, the grip he had on his bottle faltering. He was slumped in a reclining chair, having difficulty keeping his eyes open. “And by the way, I will have you know that Sherlock Holmes never actually speaks that line in any of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle books. Ever.”

“No way! You’re full of it!” Prompto yelped. “Santa, get a load of this guy!” He tried to wave Gladiolus over, but the lumbering man was already long gone. Passed out, snoring on a nearby couch, Gladiolus’ Santa beard had ridden up over his nose, the long white hair fluttering with each exhale of breath. Noctis, meanwhile, sat in a corner with one of the candy buckets, slowly chewing on an expired piece of toffee.

Prompto loved Halloween. Even if he couldn’t remember much of it the next day, at least he could rely on his phone’s trusty camera reel to tell it all.


	32. BONUS: Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little bonus short story that I wrote for the FFXV Small Secret Santa exchange! The request was "Anything involving Prompto and chocobos" so... I figured this story would fit in with this story compilation quite nicely. <3

When the quartet found the egg and left it back with Wiz to look after, Prompto felt like his heart would explode. His mind went a mile a minute, asking himself question after question. Would the egg be okay? Would it  _ not _ be okay? Could he, maybe, take the egg along with them so he could keep an eye on it at all times instead?  _ No, Prompto. Wiz raises chocobos for a living. The egg will be just fine. Right? _

Prompto had no idea how he managed to make it through the days that followed. Through the hunts and hours of traveling, and even in his downtime when he would play King’s Knight with the others, he found that he couldn’t keep his mind off of the mysterious egg. The egg had still been warm when they found it, but that didn’t necessarily guarantee its livelihood. He couldn’t help but have the little unhatched baby occupy his mind, and every day he silently prayed for its safety.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, they got the fateful call from Wiz. At Prompto’s insistence, they headed back to the Wiz Chocobo Post right away.

Happy and healthy, with feathers as soft as cotton and as dark as Ignis’ Ebony coffee, the chick was even cuter than Prompto imagined. 

Prompto tried to keep a firm hold on his emotions - tried to play it cool, downplay just how excited he was, but was it ever hard. Forget the personal attachment he’d had to the special case - this was something he’d never seen in person before. A real life baby chocobo, right in front of him!

Later, when the others were hanging out at the RV, Prompto took a moment to step away. For a ‘walk’, he’d said - to stretch his legs. Totally not to go and see the baby chocobo. 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d be back,” said Wiz as Prompto tried and failed to casually sidle up around the stable. “You’re just in time. She’s just gettin’ her dinner, now. Did you wanna help give her a nibble?”

Prompto had to internally scream at his legs to stop them from doing a happy dance against his will.

“Yeah! I mean, sure! Totally! No problem! That wouldn’t be a problem. If you need help. If… you don’t mind, that is,” Prompto replied with a crooked grin. Smooth. Real smooth. He approached the entrance to the stable, where Wiz was just closing up the food bin.

“Just a little bit of warning though, heh. Turns out she’s really fond of cuddling. You might be stuck here for awhile. If that’s fine with you, though, then the stash of gysahl greens is all yours for the evening.” Wiz smiled, handing Prompto a bundle of the fragrant grass.

And that was how Prompto ended up spending the next few hours with a baby chocobo cuddled on his lap, round and fluffy, like a sentient orb. He choked back tears of happiness as he took countless selfies with the bird, his hands stroking her feathers. She was so silky, so soft, cooing softly as he rubbed her cheeks.

Wiz said that she had no name yet, but secretly, Prompto gave her the name ‘Mireille’; a name he picked that had a special, and fitting, meaning:

‘Miracle’.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com). I've also got a [FFXV sideblog](http://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com), where these short stories are being cross-posted to!


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